


Painful Irony

by dulce_melos



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8183464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulce_melos/pseuds/dulce_melos
Summary: Post IM:I, pre-IM:II (started way back then and finished way the heck after that. And that, my friends, is how AUs are born.)
Sometimes, there are things you just can't see coming.Tony has a rough day - it puts him and his faithful assistant at the mercy of bad men. The suit's out of commission, and it's up to Tony and Pepper to figure out a way out.  "There is a scuff of shoes on dirt, but it's the voices that wake him..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting from fanfic - originally put this up a few years back, this was my first long fic (and lol, took way too long to finish). I'll get it all posted as I get all the html tags in place. Hope you enjoy :)  
> ~dulce

******Dirty linoleum**

There is a scuff of shoes on dirt, but it’s the voices that wake him. Men. He doesn’t recognize them. Arguing? The muted clang of a heavy door closing pulls him further into fuzzy awareness. He takes a deep breath and coughs violently at the dust he pulls in.

When he can breathe again, that’s when a horrible feeling of “ _Where the hell am I?”_ grows from recognition to dread.

Tony opens his eyes. The grime coating the linoleum floor he’s lying on is nasty. The tile looks decades old, and he doesn’t even want to guess at those stains. His stomach turns over. No, he doesn’t need to know anything about the dark, rust colored one just in front of him. As it is, he’s getting too good a look at it.

He turns his sight away from the floor and sees he’s in a large room. It looks like an old warehouse and smells of oil, dirt and disuse. The sole source of light is one small window about twelve feet up with dim sunlight filtering through the film encrusting it. His mind supplies the thought, which he doesn’t question: _It’s morning._ He stops to look at the beam of light, blinking and trying to clear his head, watching dust motes float through it.

_Why can’t I think?_

He shifts, to turn his head and see the rest of the room, when a hiss of breath escapes. Pain blossoms across his skull and spots swim through his vision as he becomes painfully conscious of the spot on the back of his head calling for attention ... but he can’t reach up and feel the area to see if it is bleeding.

His hands are tied behind his back.

He pulls at the chords. They don’t give. But the movement is enough to unbalance him, and he rocks back, his head contacting the floor hard. He nearly blacks out as pain blinds him and pushes him past rational thought. Fear explodes in his chest, dark and horrible, choking him. _No, no, no…this can’t be happening._ Fighting not to lose control, he is helpless against the memories of pain, fear and torture that surge to the surface…he gasps for air as the visions flood in.

Even knowing that it is a warehouse, not a cave, the pain is not a shrapnel wound, his chest is long healed - his heart hammers as he strains for the sound of rough voices in a language he doesn’t understand. Somewhere, his mind knows, but his body is too busy reacting to listen.

_No, no, no, no…Tony, stop!_ Finally, just as it did in that dark, cold cave, reason steps in. He closes his eyes against feelings spinning out of control and breathes. _No. This is a warehouse, Tony, not a cave. A warehouse. Not…a…cave. It’s not the same people. They’re dead._ Finally, agonizingly, the tightness in his chest loosens and his heart begins to slow.

He opens his eyes. _What in the hell happened?_

Frustration grows as he continues to pull on the ropes, but he’s back and thinking again. Of course the ropes won’t give. He’s just Tony. He’s not wearing the Ironman suit, only the chest piece and back plate. The easy strength that he’s used to having when he needs it (that would snap these ropes like thread) is not there. Now the armor serves only to remind him of the strength he doesn’t have … the edges of the back plate cut into the backs of his arms, bruising, as he struggles.

He has to stop pulling at his wrists when the pain at the back of his head fades and the shriek of muscles in his side remind him of his other injury. _Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that._ Ironically, it is this ache that helps most to bring him back to _now_.

He tries to remember the previous day, and chunks of it come back. He hasn’t gotten very far when he forgets everything else, one memory screaming to the surface.

A horrible twisting starts in the pit of his stomach as he replays it in his mind’s eye – a stranger, holding his assistant. Her arms twisted cruelly behind her back, her eyes fearful, catching his … and her voice calling his name before a shadow falls into his view – and everything goes black.

_No. …Pepper!_

**A Change of Plan**

The two men walked quickly from the dimly lit and filthy room, leaving Tony Stark unconscious on the grungy linoleum floor. The smaller of the two, Andy, looked at his watch as the other grunted, pushing the heavy metal door shut. Stark should wake up soon - it was already 5:15 and the sun was coming up.

For what seemed to be the thousandth time that night, stress pressed in on Andy. This time, he couldn’t stand it. As the LCD on his watch flickered out, Andy rounded on his companion. “This is completely screwed,” he spit out angrily.

Turning around, the other lifted an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected. “Oh? Tell me what could have been done differently.”

“Gee, I dunno, Max. Maybe we should have only taken Stark?!” He raked a hand through his brown hair nervously. “I mean, that was the plan, right? What are we gonna do with his assistant?”

Max frowned at the man in front of him, hiding his own anger at the way things had gone down, completely not according to plan. “Calm down. No choice, couldn’t help it, can’t change it. Deal with it. We knew there’d be some things we couldn’t control.” He took a deep breath. “It was take her or kill her, Andy. …Did you want to kill her?” As he said it, he nailed the other with his gaze, sharp and irritated. Andy was suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “Right. I thought so.”

Turning on his heel, the taller man headed back to the office – he needed some space from this chaos to figure out what to do now.

Andy was right of course, having to take Ms. Potts was unanticipated and completely screwed up the plan. But Andy didn’t need to know that. He shook his head. _Virginia, what were you doing there?_ He left the only reassurance he could, as if it really mattered. “We’ll use her to get what we want from Stark.”

Andy watched Max head down the hall. Still fuming, he sneered and thought of the look the Max had given him before he left. _Of course, Max, “the science guy,” isn’t fazed by last night’s fiasco at all. Maybe because Max didn’t do crap?!_

Andy took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to get his anger under control. His nerves were shot. The night had gone really badly. If he didn’t need the money, he never would have taken the job. Kidnapping always left a bad taste in his mouth.

Looking down at his hands, he thought about what he’d done that night. To that woman. How horrible it was when she’d been so limp in his arms, such a dead weight, as he took her to the back of the car. Guilt gnawed at his stomach, even as he stewed about the talk he’d just had with Max.

Taking one last look at the metal door, Andy turned and headed back towards the main room. He was on the next watch. He told himself Max was right; they couldn’t have done anything differently. So it was supposed to have been a quick grab; things just went wrong, it happened. _Get over it._

Sure, they had thought that without the suit Stark would be an easy target. But Stark had not been an “easy” target. The guy was stronger than he looked. The set up had been messed up; they’d had to improvise. It had taken too long. Sean had his hands full, trying to take Stark down while Andy was distracting the woman.

Then things had gone from bad to worse when the assistant figured out something was going on and had to go complicate things.

Andy snapped out of his reverie when he reached his destination: the room where the monitors for the surveillance cameras were hooked up. He gestured to Sean, who nodded and dragged himself out, sporting a few new bruises and looking generally pissy. Mentally Andy shrugged. _Dude. Not my fault._

Settling into the chair Sean had been in, Andy looked over the row of monitors, two of which showed their new guests, both unmoving. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was exhausted. The sun was rising, and still his night wasn’t over. _Why did I take this job again?_

He stretched out the shoulder he’d wrenched earlier and looked at the monitor showing Stark. The man was moving now. As predicted, he’d woken up…it looked like he was tugging on the ropes. _Struggle all you want, Stark. Sorry, man. You’re stuck here for a while._ Andy had tied both captives and he’d learned to tie knots from his dad, a Navy man.

Yeah. Regardless of anything else, at least Andy didn’t have to worry about Stark getting loose. He reached over to the cooler and grabbed a soda, popped the top. Impassively, he watched, as Stark seemed to tire and stopped struggling. The man was lying on his back now, awkwardly, instead of on his side. Andy sighed. Overall, the show wasn’t very entertaining.

His thoughts were tinged with irony. _Yeah…I knew this job would be my ticket to the good life._

_ _11 hours earlier:_ _

_Pepper’s eyes scanned the landscape, worried. Heat waves radiated off the asphalt ahead of her. The air was cool in the van and the ride was comfortable, but that did nothing for her mood. The road was empty and desert stretched away as far as she could see to either side of her lonely vehicle. She stepped on the gas, pushing the van faster. At the moment, she wasn’t really worried about a speeding ticket._

_She was in the newest addition to the Tony Stark car collection, and it was a large unwieldy thing. The cargo van was completely different from his usual taste in vehicles. It was slow, plain, filled with tools, and contained a lot more high tech gear than you’d expect from its outward appearance. It was also….functional. In other words, it was blocky, awkward and a pain in the ass to drive, but they needed it as emergency repair/transport for the suit._

_Pepper still remembered when Tony had first brought it to the office. She’d seen, from the corner of her eye, her boss watching her reaction to the spanking white newly outfitted tech-mobile. She’d tried to be professional about it, and she’d swear anyone else wouldn’t have seen how she really felt, but Tony knew her. She wasn’t pleased with what the van symbolized and he saw it. He’d done his charming best to lift her mood._

_“Look, Potts! It’s a non-descript van,” Tony had said. “You know,” he’d continued with a suggestive little leer and a waggle of his eyebrows, “a lot can be done in the back of a van.”_

_She had given him her favorite half-smile. “I’m sure you know better than I, Mr. Stark.” He had smiled at her response, but from the concerned looks he kept throwing her way, it was apparent he knew she was just playing the game._

_In the end, game or not, it didn’t matter. She knew he was trying to distract her from reality. The reality was that the van was a concession to necessity. Her boss was no longer just an engineer, tinkering and creating, but was now someone who put his life on the line on a regular basis, and it was inevitable that one day an emergency would come along. It was practical. Yes. Better safe then sorry._

_She accepted the van’s presence for necessity’s sake - but she didn’t have to be thrilled with it. Unfortunately, as time went on, she found herself hating it. Every time she scheduled maintenance on it, practiced driving it, saw her boss checking the gear in it, her dislike of it grew. Every time she looked at it, it stood as a reminder for days like this. It terrified her to think about getting a call and going out in the wretched thing._

_Going to pick Tony up in the van meant he couldn’t make it back to the mansion on his own. What if? What if she arrived to pick him up and found something truly horrible had happened to him. It was almost worse than just waiting for his return when he went on a mission. Until she saw his face and knew he was okay, her mind provided her with the worst imaginings._

_But to be honest, she couldn’t blame Tony for her coming to pick him up because the first time he called he’d wanted to have Hogan come out, with an unusually somber “Ms. Potts, this is outside of even your job description. Please call Happy and have him come to this location.”_

_That quiet request had told her that he knew how she felt. She appreciated that he at least recognized that, but it was painfully obvious that he still wasn’t going to stop._

_And then, before she could stop herself, she did something she rarely did. She insisted. “No … no. Mr. Stark, I’ll come. It’ll just take a couple of minutes for me to change and I’ll be on my way.” She hadn’t really thought about her response when she’d hung up and quickly headed off to get him (after changing into the spare clothes she kept in the office)._

_She knew he’d been surprised at her insistence. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t pushed her to call Hogan instead; after all, the bodyguard was much stronger and, Tony’s sensitivity for her feelings aside, it would have made more sense to bet on the large man’s strength._

_Later, she told herself (and him) it would take longer for Hogan to come to the office, get the van and head out again… it was easier this way. And this way she didn’t have to admit to herself (or him) that she was willing to drop everything, drive out whatever the time in that stupid, unwieldy, white van and play chauffeur for her frustrating, rash and _stubborn_ boss because there was no way in hell she’d watch Hogan leave to pick him up in who knew what condition … while she waited for a phone call with bad news. And so, that’s how she became the van’s official driver._

_Fortunately for them both (mostly for Tony) it was rare that she had to make a trip like this. This was the second time he’d called asking for a ride home since he had gotten the van. The first time was due to a simple malfunction, and had at least resulted in a rather amusing trip to Target. Tired as she’d been, she had to admit the action-figure can-can had been entertaining (the expression on the clerk’s face when they checked out had been pretty priceless, as well). And she’d gotten coffee out of that deal._

_Considering how worried she was at the moment, she could only hope this trip ended as nicely. She had skipped lunch and it was almost dinnertime. She shook her head. She should be there by now. The drive had taken much longer than she’d thought._

_It was so _hot_. And he was out there, waiting for her. Where was it?_

_There. That pole number. That’s about where Jarvis said his call had come from._

_She quickly pulled to the side of the road and parked. Jumping out, she slammed the door of the van and anxiously scanned the roadside. “Mr. Stark, I’m here. Where are you?”_

_After a pause the little receiver in her ear crackled and his voice, faint and barely discernable came back, “hi…. Ms. Potts. If you’re by the marker pole, I’m about two hundred feet from you, come straight out from the road … East-ish, you can’t miss me. Look for the shiny gold and red suit.” Pepper rolled her eyes as he continued, “…Bring the yellow toolkit from the back.” Another crackle, and silence._

_Pepper squinted through her sunglasses, looking “East-ish”. Nope. No glint of gold or hint of red. Two hundred feet? And normally, the sound was crystal clear. Of course it was crystal clear, because Tony had designed the com-sets himself. But not today. That crackle said more than he had - the suit must be damaged. Her stomach started to churn._

_She turned quickly and opened the rear double-doors to the van. And was greeted by shelves filled to the brim with tools. She scanned them, looking for what he asked, as she fretted about the few words he had spoken, faintly in her ears._

_She had a feeling this trip wouldn’t be ending as nicely as the last…he sounded like he was in pain. She frowned. _Damn it, Tony.__


	2. Chapter 2

**It’s hot and well past dinner**

Breathing the hot desert air, Pepper fought her frustration as she ignored her growling stomach. In retrospect, skipping lunch today had been supremely stupid. She frowned and mentally made a note to put some snacks in the van. _All of these electronics, but no granola bars in sight._

“Hurry up Pepper.” Her voice was loud in the sweltering air. _How hard is it to find a toolbox?? A bright yellow toolbox??_ She checked her watch. _Almost five minutes._ Five minutes since she’d hung up with her boss. The drive here had taken forever, and now he’d spent five more minutes in this awful heat, hurt (she was sure of it), while she dug around for a stupid toolbox. She had to force herself to stop biting her bottom lip before she bit it clean through.

And dawgonnit, she couldn’t find the toolbox. Daylight was beginning to fade. The sun was low on the horizon, and she could see the tinge of purple and red in the sky. There wasn’t much time before darkness fell. Worried, she looked at the sky. She couldn’t help thinking, _‘Why can’t he just be a little bit earlier? Earlier for appointments, earlier for social events, earlier for crashing in the desert?’_ Briefly, she considered just going to find him without it. Maybe she could get him back here and just find it afterwards. But, no. Tony wouldn’t have asked for it if she could have just done that. Desperately, she scanned the interior of the van again.

 _Ah!! Finally._ Hidden behind a large utility box, of course.

Grabbing the small toolbox (it was heavier than expected), she closed the doors and headed off. She still couldn’t see even a little shine from the armor. She quickly went from a fast walk to a trot. Sweat started to bead on her forehead. _He must be baking._ The van got smaller as she left it behind. The ground was uneven, dry and scrub-brushy. Small rocks pushed up against the soles of her tennis shoes, not quite slowing her down, but definitely not helping her progress. She’d better watch where she stepped or she’d end up sprawled, and the last thing Pepper needed right now was a twisted ankle. She looked up, half-expecting to see vultures circling. _I should have put on sunscreen._

She found her boss sitting awkwardly on the ground, down a small slope. He was leaning against some large rocks – boulders, really. She could see the heat radiating off the armor he wore. “Two hundred feet, huh?” Looking back, she could just see the road and a tiny little white thing parked next to it. She frowned and knelt down, her white sneakers covered in the dust she’d kicked up on the way over. “I kind of doubt it.” The eyes in the golden mask were dark. That meant no power. She waited a beat, but he didn’t move, or respond. Her heart gave a small lurch. “Mr. Stark?”

She heard a sharp intake of breath, like someone remembering to breathe. Then his voice once again amidst the crackle, whispered softly in her ear. “Hey Potts. Glad you could join the party.” She heard the smile there, but it obviously took effort to say. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it. The heat is … hot.”

Okay, he was still talking. But was “a little out of it” another way of saying he passed out?? _Calm, Pepper. Stay calm._ She looked him over, carefully. Other than a few scuffs in the finish, the suit looked perfect from where she sat. What about the rest of it?

She moved closer, not quite touching the armor – it must be scalding hot. As she leaned forward, he confirmed, “The damage is in the back. It’s not serious. I think.”

“What’s happened to Jarvis?” Jarvis ran all the diagnostics on the suit, real-time. Tony should know exactly what was going on. But she knew those unlit eyes were a bad sign.

Tony verified that when he said, “Something’s wrong with the power-transfer circuits. I lost power and Jarvis when I was heading back.” He was sounding breathless, now. “The landing was … a little rough.”

Okay. With that type of news he normally made a smart remark or wisecrack, so she wouldn’t worry. A little rough? _How high were you when you lost power, Tony?_ Unable to stop it, she felt anger bubbling up - she had an insane urge to start yelling at him, but forced a sigh instead. _Stop it, Pepper. Yelling won’t help anything._ “How badly are you hurt?”

“Not bad,” he breathed. “It just hurts. A lot.” He leaned forward slightly and she heard a sharp hiss of breath. Her heart skipped a beat and she watched him fall back again.

 _It might not help to yell at him, but I’d feel better._ “Right.” Pepper reached for her cell phone. “I need to call an ambulance, Mr. Stark. And I need to call right now; it will take them a long time-”

“No.” The response was sharp, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Pepper frowned. There was an undercurrent there that made her pause, but she shook her head. “I’m calling an ambulance.” This was too much. She began to dial.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a gloved hand come up. “No, Pepper! Don’t.” Tony’s voice came out a little loudly, startling her, and there was a hint of real panic there. She heard his breathing, agitated now, as he continued. “I’m okay. Really. Like I said, it just hurts. I’m banged up, not broken. Scout’s honor. Once I get out of the suit I’ll be fine.”

She could almost see his eyes behind the mask, boring into hers. When she didn’t say anything, he said, “Please, Pepper. I-I just don’t want to deal with it. The people, the media. The questions. I just want to get home.” As his voice faded in her ear, Pepper stopped, finger mid-dial, a frown creasing her forehead. His tone shook her.

He called her Pepper. He only called her that in his most unguarded moments. And as it had so many times before, the thought came to her, “ _Why does he do this to me?”_ But his request had been so plain it hurt to hear. Hesitantly, she put her cell phone back in her jeans pocket.

She sighed. “Okay. I won’t call now. But I reserve the right to do so later.”

A quiet, grateful chuckle came back, making her smile. And then, “Um. I need a little help getting this off. Without even auxiliary power, the suit is pretty close to a paper-weight.”

Pepper heard the frustration laced through the pain in his voice and couldn’t help a little angry satisfaction. The man was so aggravating. _You’re not the only one who doesn’t like feeling helpless and out of control, Tony._ Taking a deep breath, she said, “Okay, tell me what to do…”

Unconsciously, she reached out, fingers wanting to feel for release catches in the armor, and snatched her hand back just as she heard his voice, suddenly sharp in her ear, “Don’t!” Then, apparently realizing he was too late, “it’s…hot. Are you okay?” She shook out her hand, trying to cool the little burn she’d just given herself.

That was dumb. _Hellooo._ She could probably fry an egg on the armor. _Smooth, Pepper._ She sighed. “Yes, I’m okay. Now what?”

She heard a small chuckle. “Well, Miss Impatience,” he said as she gritted her teeth. “I think there are some rags in the bottom of that toolkit. Use them for your hands.”

Sure enough, there were three well-worn rags in the bottom of the box. She folded one around each of her hands. “Alright, let’s try this one more time.” Careful not to burn herself again, she followed Tony’s instructions, using the other tools she’d brought as he guided her through manually removing the helmet. Finally, she pulled it off. She watched as Tony leaned his head back, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths of the hot desert air. _Hot as it is out here, it’s probably still cooler than it was with the helmet on._

She couldn’t believe how relieved she was to see his face, even though she’d been talking to him through the com-set this whole time. She took advantage of his inattention to just look (she had to wait while he caught his breath, of course). He looked less than his most dashing; his skin was flushed from the heat of being in the helmet, and his hair drenched with sweat - curling down over his forehead. But he was okay. And suddenly she was happy, there in the hot miserable sun. “Well, hello, Mr. Stark. Good to see you.”

He opened his eyes. “Hello, Ms. Potts. Feels good to have that off, thanks.” He paused, apparently noticing her gaze.

She hoped he couldn’t see the little flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, because of course she’d just been checking to make sure he hadn’t hit his head. Really. In case she needed to exercise her option to call for an ambulance. There was a funny moment as he just looked at her, with that small smile of his playing around his lips. She wondered what he was thinking, feeling a little flutter in the pit of her stomach (that wasn’t hunger). Nervously, she licked her lips. It sure was hot.

Then she saw the sparkle of mischief start in those brown eyes and waited for it. Sure enough, it didn’t take long. With a slow wicked smile, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Please… don’t stop.”

Pepper gave a short laugh, shaking her head. “You are incorrigible.”

“You know you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

That response earned an eye roll and an exaggerated sigh from Pepper. Tony still wore a self-satisfied smirk when he took her cue as she picked up the tools again. He began feeding her the quiet instructions she needed to get him free of the rest of the suit.

The air was very still, and Tony’s voice carried out over the dirt and scrub, but there was no one nearby to hear. It was a long time later that Pepper finally put the last piece of armor down. Several more minutes ticked by as Pepper went back to get the van and bring it closer.

Stomach growling, she quickly loaded the armor into the van, telling her boss in no uncertain terms that he would be staying where he was while she did it. He gave her a dark look, clearly frustrated that she was doing all the heavy lifting, but did as he was told. That as much as anything revealed how sore and tired he must be.

However, true to his word, there was no blood in evidence. Tony seemed relatively whole. Still leaning up against the rock, head tilted back and dark hair nearly invisible against the stone, he was definitely looking more comfortable now, with one jean-clad leg bent at the knee.

Satisfied he wasn’t going to push her on the issue, Pepper finished up the work (sneezing at the dust she was stirring up), as Tony watched her quietly, not speaking. If she hadn’t been so intent on getting everything into the van, if she hadn’t been so tired and hungry, she would have been uncomfortable under that constant, thoughtful gaze. Glancing over at him, she could see the blue light from the generator poking through the t-shirt he wore, slightly illuminating his face. And once again, she wondered what he was thinking.

Finally, it was time to go. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked quietly as they settled him into his seat, realizing as the words came out it was the wrong thing to ask – almost guaranteeing the answer she’d get. Sure no blood, but now that he was up she could see how he much he was favoring his right side, and how his breathing hitched every time he leaned in that direction. The armor had been damaged on that side, which was pretty alarming considering how tough it was, and there had been a pretty nasty dent near where his hip would be.

“Yes. I’m sure.” She heard the warning in his voice, but opened her mouth to try again anyway. He cut her off. “Potts, drop it. I’ll be okay.” She frowned and nodded, but again her anger bubbled up, simmering.

 _Stubborn, frustrating man!_ This was not just a little bruise. This could be broken bones, or God forbid, internal injury. Pepper could see the strain at the corners of his eyes and the muscles clenching in his jaw. He was really hurting.

But long experience told her that short answer was the end of the discussion. At this point, she would have to trust he knew himself well enough (after so many missions with some amount of injury). She huffed a breath. Where was Jarvis when she needed him to back her up…or at least reassure her with a reading of Tony’s vital signs?

The last rays of sunlight had said goodnight a long time ago. It was pitch-black when Pepper started the long drive back to civilization, her thoughts focused only on getting them back home with a quick stop at the nearest gas station to grab something, anything, to eat.

It was five minutes after she’d pulled onto the highway that a quiet little beep sounded, unheard over the sound of the engine. A beep that indicated a little circuit box with a tracker had kicked on, connected with the onboard GPS computer and was transmitting data. And because she didn’t hear the beep, it never occurred to Pepper that something was wrong, that they were headed towards dark men with an evil purpose, and she and Tony might not make it back.


	3. Chapter 3

**In the dark of night**

 

An hour and a half later Pepper was still driving. She had some soft music on, but wasn’t really listening. The clock on the radio said 9:07 pm, and she was so past hungry she almost didn’t feel it anymore. Just a dull ache where her stomach was, and a kind of crystalline awareness that said her blood sugar was really low. And tired? Oh yes, let’s not forget that. The trip out to pick Tony up had seemed a lot shorter.

She looked over at her boss, who had dozed off about an hour ago. His right arm was laying over the emergency ice pack she’d given him. He’d asked her for it along with some ibuprofen and then stubbornly refused to let her do anything more than hand it over. The combo must have helped, though, because he’d fallen asleep shortly after that. His breathing was slow and steady, and he was smiling some in his sleep. _What are you dreaming about, Tony?_ On second thought, she didn’t want to know. She was just happy he was sleeping.

Her eyes went back to the road and her mind went back to her thoughts.

She knew he wasn’t sleeping enough. Tony rarely seemed tired, with that nervous kinetic energy he always seemed to have…especially when he was working. That really didn’t matter, though. Before those horrible three months, he’d party like a college kid on spring break until an idea struck. After that he worked insanely long hours until he’d exhausted that spark of inspiration, and then he would recharge. She wouldn’t see him very much for a couple of days (and would reschedule all of his appointments for that time) while he slept.

Then the cycle would begin again – party, spark, work, sleep, party, ad infinitum. But in the months since he’d returned, she hadn’t had to reschedule his appointments for ‘recharging’ – only for missions. All work and no play was apparently not too dull for Tony. Not anymore, and that was what worried Pepper.

_Oh, Pepper, stop it. You’re just tired. He’s not a child; he’s not insane. Working is how he’s always … coped. At least he’s not using his other coping mechanism and drinking himself into oblivion._

Her attempts to put her worries aside didn’t work, though. Thoughts that had fluttered for months around the outskirts finally pushed to the forefront of her mind, in the quiet of the van. Pepper was too tired to ignore them. _He refuses to talk to anyone about what happened in Afghanistan…he’s not sleeping well...he’s obsessed with the missions, and the suit._

She yawned and wiped a hand across her eyes. Now that she really needed to question him, show her concern (now that she worried for him in so many ways every day), he was shutting her out. A simple question like “how did you sleep?” that in the past she’d casually ask to make conversation, or with friendly concern after a long night in the workshop, was different now - had more weight and shades of meaning that stopped it in her throat. Dealing with Tony Stark had never been simple. Now, there was this huge wall between them getting thicker every day. It made her want to scream.

She needed fresh air. That, at least, she could fix. Rolling down the window, Pepper breathed in the cool night.

As the breeze swept through the cab, Tony shifted, muttering something under his breath. Pepper looked over, but he was still asleep. His hair was a mess. She resisted the urge to brush it away from his eyes. Her eyes returned to the road and she focused on the steady beat of air against her face to distract her. The streetlights had finally resumed about twenty miles back and the sound as they flashed by had a more soothing rhythm than the music that played.

When the truck went by a few minutes later with a blast of air and a rattle of its lift-gate, Pepper regretted her need for fresh air. Tony started – Pepper glanced over just in time to see his eyes snap open as he jumped, dislodging the ice pack, suddenly awake. He didn’t say anything, but Pepper saw the wince he made as he put his hand to his injured side. She cursed inwardly and looked away before he noticed her attention.

Tony recovered quickly and brushed his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. “How long have I been out?” He was blinking owlishly at her and she could see he was still half-asleep.

Smiling, she said, “about an hour. I should have just run the air conditioning …sorry about that.” She saw him looking around, she guessed to see how much longer they’d be on the road. She was beginning to wonder too. There was only one gas station on this stretch of road and the gauge was already on empty. _I could have sworn the tank was full when I left – it shouldn’t be so low already?? Weird. So much for a high mpg._

“We should be seeing a gas station soon. I hope. We’ll be walking if we don’t get some gas soon. I’m going to grab some food, too. What are you hungry for?”

“Umm, not too hungry. A sandwich or something…” he responded as he grimaced, shifting painfully to look into the back of the van. Pepper sighed. Barely awake and his mind was already moving on to other things, obviously.

“Mr. Stark, the suit can wait. I really think you should rest longer.”

“No….I-I just need to check something out real quick,” and at that, he unbuckled himself and clambered slowly with a small sound of pain into the rear of the van, turning on the light and rummaging through the tools back there.

Pepper readjusted her rear-view mirror and let out an exasperated sound. “You know, my life would be so much easier if you would just listen to me once in a while.” She heard him chuckle over the sound of a drawer rasping and tools rattling.

“Of course I _listen_ , Ms. Potts. I just don’t _follow_ instructions … very well.” This understatement of the year was followed by a clatter as he pulled the chest plate out of the pile of armor. “…Unless the instructions involve fuzzy handcuffs and peanut oil.” He paused, but Pepper didn’t rise to the bait. “Come-on, Potts, you know that’s what makes me so endearing.”

Glancing up into the mirror, all she could see was his profile - complete with smirk, mussed dark hair and the line of his neck, head bent forward as he focused on the electronics in front of him. She couldn’t help her chuckle and hearing it, he looked up. Her worries seemed so far away now that he was awake and talking. She treated him to an eyeroll and said with a wry look, “ _endearing_ isn’t the word I would have chosen.”

“Ooh. I’m intrigued, Ms. Potts!” He leaned forward slightly and set down the chest plate, putting an arm across his knee. “What word would you have chosen? Devilish? Charming? Devilishly charming? Or how about…. irresistible?” He drew the word “irresistible” out and lowered his voice as he gave her that teasing smile.

She opened her mouth to respond, her mind instantly supplying her with a long list of less favorably descriptive words, when she caught the lights of a gas station ahead. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor (and she was hungry), Pepper conceded defeat – there was no winning this contest. So instead she simply said, “Finally. Food. Seriously, what would you like?”

Pulling into the small parking lot, Pepper pulled up to the pump and looked around. Two cars in the lot. Not exactly brisk business, but they were still pretty far out from civilization. Her boss hadn’t answered. “Mr. Stark? Food?”

“Mm, what?”

Groaning inside but still amused, she gave up trying to get an answer and said instead, “I’ll be right back.”

“Mm. Okay.” Pepper glanced back as she stepped out of the van. Her smile faded as she saw that her boss had now also pulled the back plate out of the pile and was in the process of putting both sides on.

 _Oh for goodness sake._ A little huff of breath was all that betrayed her irritation, though. Stepping out of the van, Pepper topped off the tank, then grabbed her purse and headed into the convenience store.

The ding as she came in was loud in her ears. Pepper looked around the store, but there was only one patron other than herself. The clerk sat behind the front counter looking bored. _I’d be bored too._ As she stepped further through the door, a blast of cold air struck her, blowing the hair off her face, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. _Sheesh, turn the air down, people! It’s cold enough outside!_

Almost instinctively, she headed towards the most likely place for the hot items. She almost could have listed what would be there and steeled herself for the lack of organic matter. At this point, though, she really didn’t care. Anything would do to fill the gaping hole of her hunger. Her eyes ticked over the shelves … hot dogs, tin foil wrapped semi-burgers, those looked like burritos, and in the cold-unit right next to that – salad! Pretty good-looking salads too. She’d planned to find something hot, but nixed that idea as her mouth watered. She smiled and grabbed two with a mix of baby greens, spinach and other veges, along with a couple of tuna salad sandwiches to round it out. Two insta-Starbucks in a bottle (mocha, of course), and she headed for the register.

The bored clerk was waiting for her. He smiled and took the foodstuffs, chatting about inconsequentials. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing as he rang up her items. _He must be new._ Odd, since he seemed to be on duty all by himself. While he talked, Pepper absently noted that he’d left his uniform unbuttoned, showing a worn black t-shirt underneath. It actually looked like the uniform might not fit right. _No trainer and badly fitting uniforms. They really need to do better for their employees._

And now that she was paying attention, she saw that he was pretty unkempt in general. His brown hair hung limply in his face, and sweat was dripping down past his eyes. He wiped at it with his sleeve, and Pepper noticed his hands were very stained with what looked like dirt, or car oil. And they were trembling, just slightly.

Pepper frowned. She looked around the store again, but apparently the other customer had left because now she was the only one there. The voice of the man ringing up her items droned on, but Pepper wasn’t paying any attention now. Something didn’t feel right.

She looked out the front window and could see her boss’ van in the parking lot, the cab light glowing softly through the side window. _Okay._ Her eyes flitted around the store again, and she saw the stock room door (she assumed, based on all the boxes she could just see the edges of), standing ajar. She couldn’t see much beyond it. But there was something on the floor, just peeking around the edge of the door. _Is that a hand? Oh…no_. Suddenly, it felt like there was no air in her lungs _._ She looked up. The “clerk” had stopped talking and was just staring at her.

She bolted.

Vaguely, she heard the man behind her swear as the ding of the door followed her into the parking lot.

Once outside, she could hear the sounds of a scuffle, coming from the rear of the van. Careening in that direction, she picked up speed, thankful for her tennis shoes instead of the four-inch high heels she normally wore.

Apparently, the not-clerk was wearing tennis shoes as well, because she didn’t hear it when he caught up to her. She had just made it to the back of the van and into Tony’s line of sight when her right wrist was suddenly and painful wrenched behind her. She felt hot breath on her neck as she was pulled back and away from her boss.

Digging her heels in for what leverage she could get, she tried to wrench out of the man’s grasp, but failed. The moment she was off-balance, he got hold of her other arm. Her shoulders screamed, and she cried out. She saw her boss, fighting with another man, a scary looking man with dark hair and a horrible scar going down the left side of his face. “No!” The man behind her was cursing now, and Pepper felt something go around her wrists, painfully tight. The scar-faced man raised what looked like a pipe, wrapped on one end, over his head just as her boss looked up at her. “Tony!” She didn’t have time to recognize the emotion that flashed in his eyes the moment he looked up and saw her, but it was terrifying.

Before she could do anything else, a cloth pressed up against her nose and mouth. Her eyes widened. _No, no, no, this is bad!_ She held her breath, struggling against the thing holding her wrists. It hurt like hell. Finally, she couldn’t hold her breath any more and inhaled. It was awful. The cloth had a sickly sweet smell, too sweet - it made her want to gag. And suddenly, she couldn’t focus. _Tony. No. I…_ She blinked and tried to clear her eyes, but everything was getting fuzzier by the moment.

Then the parking lot, the van, the men, her boss and everything else around her went from fuzzy to black.

 ***

Stark hadn’t moved since he’d stopped struggling at the beginning of Andy’s watch. He was in that same awkward position - on his back, head back against the dirty linoleum floor. Andy cautiously shut the door and moved over to where the dark haired man was laying near the far wall.

He’d come to check on their captive because he couldn’t see if he was breathing; the damn armor had been impossible to figure out, so he and Sean had to leave it on. There wasn’t time to do anything else. Stark had been knocked out and tied up anyhow.

“Mr. Stark.” No response. The man’s eyes remained closed.

Now, him having the armor on, even just the torso was a problem. It masked subtle movements, and Andy was worried something was seriously wrong. That would be really bad. As he got closer, he could hear what the monitor didn’t convey. Breathing. Okay. That was a relief, but it was fast and shallow, pained. He still hadn’t moved. Had he passed out again?

It was darker where Stark was laying, and Andy couldn’t see him very well. The hazy sunlight coming in the window across the room did little to help, but the bluish glowy thing in the chest plate cast an eerie light over a good portion of the area. They hadn’t been able to turn it off. Did that mean Stark had an active weapon of some kind? No telling for sure, but Andy suspected not because he hadn’t used it since waking up.

Andy knelt down, leaving a little distance between them. “Mr. Stark.” The man opened his eyes, and Andy jumped, pulling back at what he saw.

Tony Stark’s eyes glittered in the dim light.

“Ms. Potts.” It was a question and a demand.

Andy knew he had nothing to be worried about. Stark was the captive. So he tried to slow the words threatening to tumble out, in his rush to remove that frightening look from those eyes. “She’s all right, Mr. Stark. She’s in another room. She’s still unconscious, but she hasn’t been harmed.”

Tony Stark didn’t respond, but at the word “unconscious”, Andy saw the look darken.

In the face of that expression, Andy felt compelled to say again, “she hasn’t been hurt, Mr. Stark.”

Stark held his gaze for a moment longer, but the fury smoldering in his eyes dimmed. Absurdly, Andy was relieved. _What the hell is wrong with you?_ Somewhat shakily, he stood to leave, forgetting his concern about possible injuries to their unwilling guest.

“What is this about?” The question came as Andy turned. As with the earlier question about Ms. Potts, it demanded an answer.

 _Who’s the captive here, man? Frick._ The guy could at least be a little intimidated. “It’s up to the boss to tell you that.”

"Send the boss in, then.”

“Sorry, man. You’re gonna have to wait.”

The eyes in front of him closed again, and Stark turned his face away, still not really shifting position. It felt like a dismissal. Andy had nothing to prove, but he was pissed now, so he didn’t leave right way. Irritation, fatigue and frustration warred for space in his brain as he looked at the man tied up in front of him and thought for a moment.

He knew Stark had to have a nasty headache. Hopefully not a concussion; Sean had really nailed him with that pipe. Max had been furious about that – the industrialist was no use to them if his genius brain got scrambled.

The bump on the head wasn’t what was bothering Andy at the moment, though. Stark’s breathing was still very shallow, and Andy wondered what Sean had done to the man before he and Ms. Potts had entered the scene.

But he wasn’t a doctor and it wasn’t his worry. It was Max’s worry.

Still, he hesitated. He thought about asking. He remembered the look on Stark’s face a minute ago, when he’d asked him about Ms. Potts. No, he decided. He wouldn’t ask. So instead Andy turned and left the room, heading back to his post at the monitors. After all, he had nothing to prove. He’d let Max deal with Stark. This whole thing was Max’s deal anyhow. Andy was just a hired hand.

He ran into Max on the way back, cell phone in one hand, a security camera in the other. The man’s red hair was a mess, like he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He looked pale and nervous. Before Andy could wonder about it too much Max handed him the camera. “Hook it up in the room down the hall from Ms. Potts …. C-7. I’ll watch the monitors while you do. We need to move Stark. It’s going to be too difficult…too dangerous…to keep him in that room.”

“But you said you wanted him to have room to work. That other room is too small.”

“Just do it.”

Nodding tersely, Andy replied, “yes sir, boss.” _Damn it all, I don’t want to be hooking shit up. I’m exhausted._ But he went, mentally ticking off the list of things he’d need as he walked. And out of the corner of his eye, Andy saw Max look at the cell phone in his hand, shake his head and put it in his coat pocket. Max ran a hand through his hair and went into the monitor room, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

Andy grunted. _That didn’t look good._ Then he put it out of his mind as he went to retrieve the toolbox from the utility room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Unacceptable risks**

The hall was unsurprisingly dingy. Limping slightly and trying not to show it, Tony followed Andy (he now knew) as they headed towards an open door. The fluorescent lights flickered annoyingly, but Tony didn’t really notice, as the pain in his side was increasing exponentially. He didn’t know how long he could keep up the show of good health when it felt like his head was going to explode and he was having trouble breathing. And that wasn’t the worst of it.

The man with the scar was glaring at him from the open door, an ugly bruise darkening one side of his face. He was taller than Tony remembered. Stepping back as Andy and Tony approached, Scar-face still managed to lean out enough to shoulder him as he walked by. The jarring impact was hard enough to rattle Tony to his teeth. Blinking away stars as agony flared, Tony concentrated on getting into the room and to the mattress against the far wall without passing out. He ignored the bastard while Andy removed the ropes from his arms. Much as he wanted to, he wasn’t in any condition to retaliate, so it wasn’t until Andy left the room that Tony looked up again, in the hope the man would be gone.

No such luck. Scar-face, with one grimy hand gripping the door-jam, leaned into the bare room with a nasty look and sneered, “that assistant of yours is pretty. I can see why you keep her close.”

Before Tony could respond, the door closed.

He was alone. His side screaming, he wrenched himself off the dirty mattress. Furiously he launched himself across the room, careless of the pain, to the heavy door. He knew it was what the guy wanted, knew it was pointless, and did it anyway – he yanked at the door. The lock rattled, but the door didn’t budge. It was solid. _Pepper!_ He almost threw himself at the door, but it wouldn’t do any good, and the small part of him that was still rational informed him he might just pass out.

His breath was coming in harsh pants as he ignored the mounting hurt. He looked around for something to use on the door. The room was barren. There was nothing to use on the door and no outlet for the mounting frustration and fear choking him. The only release was to slam his fist into that unyielding metal, not planning, not reasoning, not thinking about anything but Pepper, caught here, in danger, because of him.

A starburst of pain ran up his arm and sang harmony with his head and side, as his hand throbbed. As he wrestled with this new pain, his thoughts were clearer. _Smart, Tony._ Flexing his fingers, he gingerly tested them to be sure he hadn’t done any serious damage. _You’re sure to save Pepper if you break your hand doing something stupid._ Grimacing, he leaned up against the door and caught his breath.

Finally he calmed down, went back to the mattress and eased down on it. He hadn’t rested at all since he’d found himself in the warehouse. He had no idea what time it was, but being knocked unconscious hadn’t done much for him. He was starved, frustrated, angry and scared for Pepper. This whole thing was his fault. And he couldn’t do anything to fix any of it. Putting his head back, he closed his eyes.

He hurt. He saw Scar-face’s sneer as he talked about Pepper and felt his stomach twist. _I swear I’ll fucking kill him if he touches you, Pepper._ Coldly, he realized it was true. A part of him cringed at how much he’d changed since Afghanistan. But for now…the suit was in pieces, he was alone, without tools, and he had no idea where Pepper was.

Damn, his head hurt. And he wasn’t helping anyone right now, with those thoughts.

He could push away his emotions. He’d been practicing since his parents had died; he’d pretty near perfected it in Afghanistan. He wrapped all his fear and anger and frustration into a dark little ball and shoved it into a box.

Lifting his head up, opening his eyes, he took stock. Now that his anger was fading, his body was again reminding him of his aches. They’d been aggravated by being stuck in one position for so long before then being trotted down a hallway. Yes, throwing himself across the room at the door hadn’t helped. Oh yeah, it had his attention now - it was building quickly (it was great how pain got worse for a while before leveling out). Nothing to do for it but to ride it out. He could really use some ice for his head and about half a bottle of aspirin. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly and deeply.

When the pain receded to the point that he felt like he wasn’t going to throw up, he risked a look around the room.

Plain. Dingy white. Unfurnished except for the foam mattress he was sitting on. Not the best digs he’d ever had the pleasure of staying in, but it could be worse. At least there was a bathroom. A tiny, incredibly disgusting bathroom. Yes. Not great, but not worse - he’d never admit it, but he was grateful to be away from the smell, the dust and the rust-colored stains of the other room.

He looked around and snorted. He may have his hands free, but he had nothing to work with. Nothing to throw, nothing to saw with, hammer with. _No explosives, lasers or high-caliber rounds with accompanying fully automatic weapon. Not even a frickin’ spoon to dig my way….our way out._

Unbidden, his thoughts returned to his assistant. _Where is she?_ He needed to know. He needed to see her. All he saw in his mind was the endless loop of the look on her face before everything went black.

Pain lanced through him. That look was his fault.

_Focus, Tony._ Taking a shaky breath, he folded up that memory too, and put it away for now.

Wanting another look at the door, Tony leaned forward. Then leaned back again and waited for the spots to fade from his vision. Apparently, he’d reached the end of his pain tolerance. He rested for a few minutes. The door could wait. Sucking a breath in through his teeth, he gingerly tried to get under the armor and feel along his side.

No luck. Frustrated, he gave up. Even with his arms free, he couldn’t really reach it. The armor limited him too much. He still didn’t think anything was broken. But his right side felt like it was on fire; when he leaned in any direction, all the muscles in his back and side screamed. He really needed to get some ice on it. Yeah. Some Vicodin (or Scotch) wouldn’t hurt either. But mostly, he had to get out of the armor and get a better look at it. He needed tools and another set of hands to do that.

The problem with removing the rest of the armor was that then these people would know. They would know that the generator was a part of him. That he needed it to live. Until now (except for Obi, may he get the counseling he needed in Hell), only Rhodey and Pepper knew. Normally, it wasn’t _exactly_ a threat if anyone knew about it…not many people could get close enough to hurt him as Obi had. And if they got that close and wanted to hurt him, well, a gun would work just as well.

Here, it was a different story. Did they want to ransom him? Doubtful. It might be cold, but some unarmed rich kid would be an easier target. The only real reason anyone might have for kidnapping him was for his tech (unless it was revenge, and Tony was just so _likeable_ that was virtually inconceivable).

Which meant the lovely glowing doohickey in his chest, the one thing he literally could not live without, was incidentally the one thing that they would want the most. Of course it was, because it was absolutely critical to the operation of the suit. Sure, he had a spare at home - yes, he could be taught - but he doubted these people were going to let him run home and get it so they could use the one he had “on” him.

Things just kept getting better.

*******

Things were going from bad to worse.

“That wasn’t part of the bargain.” Max fought to keep his voice level. The man on the other side of the phone wasn’t having the same trouble.

“We’re at a much higher risk of exposure now. This is going to be all over the news before long. You face the consequences of your incompetence.” There was a dark threat there. Max heard it loud and clear. “You’ll need to deliver him to us sooner.”

“I can’t! I still have to get the schematics and download the plans. I couldn’t get them before Stark was out of the picture. I’ll have to move even more carefully now. Too quick, and they’ll figure out what I’m doing and shut me out. I won’t be able to get into the system. The delivery date has to stand.” Max wanted to scream it, but instead he said, “You have to understand. Security at the factory is extremely tight, especially after what happened last year. I need time to get you the info you want.”

There was silence at the other end. Max waited, his stomach churning.

Finally, the voice continued. “You have one week, not two. Don’t screw up anything else.” He heard a click, then a dial tone.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Max took a deep breath. Grabbing the bottled water off of the desk next to him, he took a deep pull and tried to get it together. _Damn it._ His caller was right. By changing plans and taking Ms. Potts they were risking everything. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t a choice in the matter. His newfound temporary employer had asked for the near impossible. Tony Stark. Among other nearly impossible things.

_Max, you’re an idiot. Why did you agree to this?_

Brooding, Max reflected that not knowing who would be picking up Stark had been the weak point in the plan. When the two stooges had called in that there was a woman in the van, the intent to take care of things on a dark roadside had to be scrapped.

Scrapping the entire plan and trying the job another time was out of the question; his resources had been exhausted setting everything up. Originally, he had thought it was brilliant when he’d found a chink in the security surrounding the billionaire. An “emergency van”. Meant to come to the would-be super-hero’s rescue when he was stranded. It was perfect! Or so he thought. So, he set things in motion and then found out that using that weakness was more complicated than he ever imagined.

Getting the van rigged for tracking and draining the fuel tank, in such a way that it wouldn’t be immediately detected had been ridiculously expensive and difficult. Stark used a very expensive mechanic and it hadn’t been easy getting into the secured facility. But they’d done it, and then, they had waited nearly two months for this opportunity. Max had watched the days tick away. The van would be due soon for its regular servicing, and the modifications they had made at the last servicing would have been discovered as soon as someone took a close look at the engine again.

It was disturbing how rare it was to catch Stark vulnerable, as he’d been yesterday. It just wasn’t normal. The infuriating thing was, something like this could only work once. If they hadn’t moved then they wouldn’t have been able to do it at all.

So, Max had done some quick thinking. They couldn’t kill Ms. Potts. No. It was out of the question. While it was great that now they didn’t have to kill anyone (yet) – so there was no bodyguard, no body, to deal with, what to do about her? They would somehow have to capture Stark while leaving Ms. Potts out of it. Was the plan screwed? Yes, but Ms. Potts would be alive, unharmed.

They switched the location of the job to the only gas station in the area. Instead of dumping all the van’s gas from the tank as originally planned (which would have left Stark stranded in the dark, in the desert), they used the remote switch to drain the gas tank slower, took care of the station’s attendants, and hoped to distract Ms. Potts at the cashier when she stopped for gas. There was a chance Stark might pay for the gas, but Max didn’t think the man did anything for himself. It was risky, half-assed, and the best they could do at the last minute.

And it looked like it was going to work; Ms. Potts came into the store and Andy was keeping her busy. Until she caught on.

_Why was Virginia picking him up?? Everything else - meetings, events - the bodyguard picked him up! I watched for weeks…saw him all the time…Stark’s freaking shadow whenever he arrived, whenever he left. What the hell!!_

Slamming the bottle on the desk, Max tried to calm down. His hands were shaking. Getting pissed wasn’t helping anything and he had to get into the office to hold up the illusion of normalcy.

Max still couldn’t believe how far from the original plan they’d gone. In this entire disaster, the only saving grace was that it was Friday. The shit was really going to hit the fan when Stark missed his first set of appointments and no one was able to reach Ms. Potts. Hopefully he didn’t have anything major scheduled over the weekend.

Calmer now, Max left the room, locking the door behind him. He realized that in the end, it might be better that Virginia was a part of this, even if it meant more of a risk to her, and the heat would be on them a lot quicker. Max knew Stark depended on her for pretty much everything. Water-cooler gossip had it that Ms. Virginia Potts was in love with her boss. How she could have fallen for the misogynistic ass was beyond Max, but he was sure he could use it to his advantage. Stark must care about what happened to her, if only to be sure he knew when his next appointment was.

Max might even get to turn himself into a hero to her if he played his cards right. Not the same as being the sympathetic comfort while she was in mourning, but if he pulled it off, she’d be his a lot sooner.

He walked down the hall, the flicker of fluorescents making the shadowy doorways dance. The windows in nearly all of them were dark, the locks rusty with disuse. None of the doors but two really held any interest.

Max paused in front of the room that Anthony Stark’s lovely assistant was being held in. He put his hand on the door as he thought. This screwed-up situation might still be salvageable. “Sweet dreams, Virginia.” Stark’s assistant. For now.

_Stark_.

He should be in the new room by now. Max wanted to check on their guest. He shouldn’t. Max should stay away from him; there was a chance (slim though it was) that Stark might recognize him. But Max wanted to see the man unhappy. He wanted to see him stripped of his money, his power. It would just feel good. Yeah, that’s right. That’s why he’d agreed to this.

*******

Tony wasn’t sure how long it was before the door opened again. The new person looked familiar. Where had he seen him before? Middle-height, dark brown hair. Sharp features, intelligent eyes. Tony didn’t like the look of him; this man was dangerous. _Ah, here we go._ Carefully, he stood up, trying not to give away how much it hurt. He noted that the man slowed his approach. Apparently, Tony had made an impression.

“Stark.”

Tony waited.

“I hope you’re comfortable.”

Somehow, Tony doubted that was sincere. “What is this about?”

“You’re going to be our guest for a little while.”

As this new player continued to stall, probe, or do whatever the hell he was trying to do, it took all of Tony’s self-control to keep himself in check. This man, he knew, was no physical threat. It was the others under his control.

But this could be an opportunity; the man was clearly not a fighter. And Tony was furious; the desire to take the risk was insanely strong. Rapidly, Tony ran down his chances of taking this guy out, taking out the other two men (at least), finding Pepper and getting the two of them out whole. With a cracked skull, a wounded side and no weapons.

Meanwhile, oblivious of the fury bubbling under the surface of the dark haired man in front of him, his captor continued. “We need a few things from you. A little tinkering. Some paperwork. Simple things. If you want to stay in good health, you’ll do them.”

“Ms. Potts. I want to see her.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. And you might want to consider her well-being also, when we make our requests.”

At the now-spoken threat to Pepper, Tony’s reaction was immediate. The fragile hold on his self-control slipped; he saw red. He couldn’t stop from stepping forward, or keep the anger from simmering in his voice as he replied, “hurt her, and you won’t live to regret it.” Injured or not, his posture was full of threat, and he would carry it out, damned be the consequences.

Then, seeing again the chances he’d calculated in his mind, he took a deep breath. _Not yet, Tony._ He managed to stop himself from lunging at the man, barely.

His captor only smiled, though he did take a step back. “I’ll be back in a few hours with some things for you to get started on. You might want to get some rest.” Turning, he left quickly. The door shut, and Tony heard a deadbolt slide into place.

In the hallway, Max wiped his hands across his face. _Shit._ He hoped Stark didn’t realize how much that threat had scared him. It was obvious to Max that only Ms. Potts’ safety had kept the man from trying to make good on it right then and there.

They had better make damn sure Stark didn’t find a way out of that room before they delivered him to the customers. From the man’s reaction, his assistant was much more than a glorified appointment book to Stark. That was going to help things along, sure, but what the hell did that mean?

Stark didn’t know that Max had no intention of hurting Ms. Potts. No. Just the opposite. And regardless of what Stark’s reaction meant, ultimately, that’s what was so satisfying about all this – huge profit, revenge on Stark for being a rich, arrogant, obnoxious bastard, and getting the girl…Stark’s girl. Sometimes, life was sweet.

*******

Three hours later, life wasn’t looking so sweet. Max sat staring dumbly at the computer screen in front of him. There was nothing else he could do. He’d tried it twice already - a third failure would trip Security. Apparently, the codes he had gotten for the Stark Industries computer server (at great expense and personal risk) were outdated and unusable. The message box was bright red, taunting him.

Access denied.


	5. Chapter 5

**A threat and a plea**

Irritably, Pepper pushed her hair back from her face again. Her ponytail was long gone (she had no idea what happened to her scrunchy), and without it her hair kept falling into her eyes. _Why is this happening?_ Pepper returned to pacing. Faced with blank walls in an empty room and no answers, it was all she could do. She’d woken from a dead sleep, groggy with a horrible headache and so exhausted that everything hurt. What had they given her?

Back and forth, back and forth.

The room was getting smaller, she’d swear it. It didn’t help that she’d shut the door to the tiny bathroom, but the room looked like it hadn’t been cleaned. Ever. And though she tried to ignore it, the generally choking smell of dust in the room wasn’t fading into the background.

To top it off, the face of her watch was cracked. Irritably, she dropped her hand after looking at the useless thing for the millionth time. She had no idea what time it was. Her stomach growled; she didn’t pay it any attention.

She started counting her laps around the room. The minutes ticked by (she knew) as she walked, back and forth.

Breathe in, breathe out. _Calm down, Pepper._ Being alone, in this room, was making her crazy. She found herself going from anger to calm, to near-tears followed quickly by anger again. Not prone to hysterics, she was frustrated that she couldn’t seem to keep it together. Was it the drug they’d given her? _Pepper, you’ve been kidnapped. You don’t know why and you don’t know what they have done to Tony. You would be crazy not to be a little emotional._ It was an excruciating insight into the tiniest bit of what Tony went through in Afghanistan.  
  
Back to counting laps, an interminable amount of time went by as Pepper paced.

…219, 220, 221. The door opened, and the brown haired not-clerk from the convenience store came in. Turning quickly, she retreated until she felt the wall against her back. Her eyes settled finally on his face – he hadn’t slowed his advance - and she glimpsed a look that seemed like shame before he set his mouth in a grim line. He walked over to her side and brought out a zip-tie. “Turn around Ms. Potts.”

“No.”

To her left, the man with the scar appeared in the doorway. Pepper shivered, as he looked her over slowly. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking away from him. Stepping away from the wall, she turned to the man with the zip-tie. He wasn’t as scary, but that wasn’t much better. Looming over her, he was blocking the overhead light and casting her in shadow. She remembered the parking lot (how long ago?), hearing him curse, seeing the hand come over her face, feeling her arms yanked back. Her shoulders ached from remembered pain.

He said again, “Turn around Ms. Potts.”

Lifting her chin, she didn’t move. Instead she demanded, “Where’s Mr. Stark?”

No answer. She was facing away from the door now, and the man in front of her was looking over her shoulder, at the scar-faced man in the hallway. When she saw him frown and his lips tighten, Pepper risked a look back. The scary guy had stepped into the room; she suddenly felt like she was in immediate danger. It was his eyes. They were hungry. Pepper tried not to react, but couldn’t help a little cringe. He smiled at her flinch.

“I’ve got this Sean, thanks.” Irritation colored the voice of the zip-tie man. The man with the scar looked up at that, and his eyes darkened with anger. Apparently, though, zip-tie had more seniority, because ‘Sean’ didn’t push it. He just looked at her again in that way that made Pepper’s skin crawl. Then, not saying a word, he backed off into the hallway.

She turned back to the man with the zip-tie. He sighed, glanced quickly at the man eyeing them from the hallway, and lowered his voice, saying, “Please Ms. Potts. I know this is a bad situation. Don’t make it worse. Cooperate with us and it will make it easier for everyone.”

“Who are you?” Inwardly, Pepper was shocked at her rude tone, but to be honest, civility was something she didn’t feel like doing at the moment.

“Andy.”

“Andy. Okay. I want to see Mr. Stark. Now.”

He didn’t answer her. He just repeated his request. She turned, and felt the zip-tie tighten painfully on her already bruised wrists. She resisted jerking at them and followed him towards the exit into the hallway. Sean was standing there, looming. Pepper hesitated at the door. She didn’t think it was a good idea to have that man behind her while her hands were tied. Thankfully, Andy seemed to sense her unease, and motioned Sean to take the lead.

They stopped in front of a door about thirty feet from the room she’d been in, and Andy took a small toolbox from it. Pepper did a double take – it was the yellow toolbox from the van. They walked in silence just a few more feet and went down another hall.

Her heart sped up when they stopped in front of another door, just like all the others, except for a shiny new-looking deadbolt. Sean fumbled with a key chain for a second – Pepper noted the key was one of the few copper keys on the ring. He unlocked the deadbolt, the door opened silently, and Pepper could see her boss up against the far wall.

The chest plate he was wearing gleamed dully in the light from the hallway, scratches from his crash evident from where she stood. The blue of the generator cast an eerie glow that made it seem as though a spotlight was focused on him. He was in the same position she remembered from the desert, one knee up, arm thrown across it. Now, though, his head was tilted down, forehead in his palm, fingers tangled in his hair.

As the light from the hallway came spilling in, her boss lifted his head. His eyes caught hers, held them, and Pepper’s breath tangled in her throat. Those dark intense eyes moved over her, searching. She felt Andy take hold of her wrists and push her forward, into the room.

“Ms. Potts. Glad you could join the party.” Tony sounded…not himself.

Trying to stay calm, unsure of what was wanted of her, she walked over to him. She wanted to run over. He was talking. He was okay. Her tears returned and furiously she blinked them away. Just seeing him, hope sprung up - quick and cruel and oblivious to their surroundings, as she looked around the small dark room while their captors stood close behind her, watching.

All the questions she had whirled in her mind begging for answers. _Are you really okay? What is this about? How are we getting out of this?_ She didn’t voice them, taking her cue from him, and kept her voice quiet. Mostly calm. “Glad to be here. Sorry I’m late.” She knelt down next to him, questioning him with her eyes.

He looked away from her, and from their captors. “I mentioned to Andy here that I need a little assistance, and no offense to these gentlemen, but I think you’re better qualified for the job.” Andy set the toolbox next to her, opening it as he did. He rooted around and pulled out a pair of wire cutters. She felt cool metal slide against her wrist and there was a snap as the cable-tie was cut through.

Flexing her fingers, she worked the tingles out. “What do you need?”

“I need to get out of this.”

 _He means the armor. No._  
  
That simple realization scared Pepper as much as everything else that had happened so far. She more than anyone knew why the arc generator in his chest was a secret.

He sensed her alarm, apparently. “Ms. Potts. It can’t be helped. I really need to be out of this.” Exhaling heavily, he acknowledged her fear. “I know.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Pepper noted the curious look from Andy at her boss’ words. She nodded, not saying anything. There was no need to stoke the fire.

She dug around in the toolbox as Andy moved back to sit by the door. Sean remained in the hallway facing into the room, watching. As she approached, Tony braced himself against the wall and stood up, to make it easier for her to work. She gave him a small smile of thanks. Steeling herself for what was to come, she started unscrewing the little catches on the sides of the chest and back plate that hooked up automatically when Tony suited up, but required tools to undo.

It was fairly quick work. It wasn’t difficult, just complicated. She only had to ask a few questions, remembering nearly all of it without prompting. It wasn’t long before she gave a tug and the back plate came loose. She heard her boss’ quick intake of breath. “I’m sorry!” she murmured, for some reason not wanting to point out his injuries to their captors. It seemed….private, somehow.

Tony breathed out slowly and said quietly, “It’s alright - I’m okay.” She waited as he shifted forward, and then carefully moved around him to the front as he gingerly lifted his right arm. It took another tug (thankfully not much of one), and the front plate came free. She laid the armor down and began putting the tools away.

“Take it all off.” Andy’s voice came from the front of the room where he sat leaning up against the wall by the door.

“Yeah. Take it aaaall off,” Sean’s voice repeated in a singsong voice, his eyes on Pepper.

“Sean, back off.” Annoyed, Andy glanced at his partner, and then looked back to Pepper. He tried again. “Ms. Potts, remove all of the armor.”

She looked up at her boss, frustrated and frightened for him. Minutely, he nodded, his expression grim.

“I have removed all of it.” Knowing it wouldn’t help matters to antagonize them, she fought to keep the anger out of her voice. She wasn’t entirely successful.

Sean, moving into the room now, made a sound of disbelief. Pepper saw the hand motion Andy made to the other man as he got up. ‘ _Wait.’_

She watched silently as he came over. The expression on the criminal’s face as he looked at the glowing circle in her boss’ chest was a mix of anger and uncertainty.

He thought she was lying. Impulsively he reached out, and at that Pepper’s fear bubbled to the surface. She struck Andy’s hand away, dimly hearing the surprised sound from Tony behind her. “Leave him alone.” Her kidnapper snapped his head around to face her, startled and suddenly threatening. Pepper’s heart was pounding, but she didn’t back down. She was barely conscious that she’d angled herself between them, shielding Tony from the others’ view. She could feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck, the heat of his body against her back. She wondered just how much trouble this was going to earn her with the kidnappers.

“Ms. Potts.” Tony’s voice was soft in her ear. She felt the puff of his breath whisper through her hair and she shivered, goose bumps running down her arms. Softly he said, “its all right. There’s no help for it.”

She turned, pulling back to look her alarm at him, searching his face. But his expression was closed; she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Slightly, he shook his head. Gritting her teeth, she sighed and moved further back, away from her boss.

Brow furrowed, Andy nodded his head at the generator, glowing through the hole in the t-shirt Tony wore. “That. Take it off.”

“I can’t. It’s permanent.” Tony’s voice was even, matter-of-fact, but Pepper saw the muscles clench in his jaw.

“Yeah. Right.” Andy gave an uneasy laugh. “I’m serious. Take it off.”

“I’m serious. I can’t.”

Incredulous, Andy stood for a moment, undecided about what to do next. Suddenly, Sean appeared at his side. He grabbed Pepper’s arm hard enough for her to flinch, and pushed her towards her boss. _That’s going to leave a bruise._ Pepper saw Tony jerk as he stopped from reacting to the man’s mishandling of her, and that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach came back. Growling, Sean said, “prove it.”

Too angry to think better of it, Pepper spit out in a voice like acid, “What do you expect to see? He’s not wearing anything under that shirt, obviously. There’s no more equipment to take off.”

“Take the shirt off.”

Opening her mouth to refuse, Pepper stopped the sharp words in her throat. Tony was moving. She looked over to him. He was furious, she knew, but he managed to keep a neutral expression as he lifted the shirt over his head. Heart in her throat, Pepper waited, eyes going from Tony to the two men … afraid of what would happen once they knew. The room was silent but for the muted hum of the generator.

As the shirt fell to the dirty mattress with a rustle of cloth, Pepper forgot all about her nameless fears as she fought to control her reaction. Sean didn’t make any such attempt. His smirk widened as he forgot about the mystery of the generator.

Tony’s right side, starting at his ribcage, was a livid purple and black. This was what he’d refused to show her in the desert. Pepper knew why – if he had, she certainly would have called the ambulance. Now, Pepper’s breath hitched just to see it. The bruise was lighter at the top and deepened in color ominously across his hip at the beltline. There were scrapes all across his torso, running down across his waist. By themselves, they might be considered minor compared to other injuries he’d come home with in the past, but the bruise belied that possibility. _The armor’s framework must have scratched him up when he crashed._ But that bruise. It just screamed that something was seriously wrong.

She heard a snort of laughter and pointedly ignored Sean’s obvious enjoyment of his captive’s injuries. The sound gave her an excuse to look away from Tony though, as she viciously wished the floor would open up and swallow the scar-faced man. Since she couldn’t make that happen, she looked to Andy, catching his eyes. _Seen enough?_

Andy, looking shaken, stepped back. He pulled out a cell phone and began to turn away.

Urgently, Pepper followed him. “Wait,” she said in a low voice. “Please. You have to do something about his injuries. You must at least have some basic first aid supplies! He might not be able to move soon if something isn’t done.” She tried to keep the panic from her voice. From the way Andy was looking at her, she didn’t think she’d succeeded.

He didn’t respond to her request. Instead, he moved away from her, stepping into the hall. After a moment she heard him say, “boss. We have a couple of problems here, and I need to know what you want me to do.” His voice faded as he stepped away from the door.

When she could no longer hear Andy, her attention was abruptly pulled back to the room when Sean said slyly, in a voice that made her blood run cold, “looks like your employer isn’t in any shape to take care of you, sweet cheeks. I think I’ll be taking care of you now.” Unconsciously, she stepped away from him, and realized immediately that was a mistake – he apparently found that exciting. His smile widened.

Glancing toward the doorway, Sean took a step closer to her, eyeing her up and down. Pepper took a step away, and another. _Pepper, what’s wrong with you? Do something!_ But she couldn’t – she didn’t know where they were, she didn’t know if the two men were armed, she didn’t know if Tony could make it out of here hurt as he was. And she felt frozen; she looked into the man’s face and knew he had horrible things in mind for her. She felt her shoulder hit the wall. She couldn’t back up anymore. He was so close now she could smell the stink of his breath. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

“Get away from her, you bastard.” The quietly spoken words were so full of menace, so dark and so deadly; Pepper didn’t realize at first that it was Tony who said them. She hadn’t even heard him move. She opened her eyes and looked up into her employer’s face. She’d never seen him so angry. _He’s ready to kill him._ She gasped just as Sean whipped his head around, in time to catch a vicious right hook. He stumbled away from her, and Pepper took her first full breath since Andy had stepped into the hall.

“Sean! What the fuck!” The door slammed open, and Andy burst into the room, a box in his hands. He quickly took in the situation, dropped the box and suddenly there was a gun in his hand. “Mr. Stark. Back off. Now.”

Tony Stark didn’t move. After Sean stumbled back, stunned by the unexpected blow, Tony had stepped in front of Pepper, blocking most of her view of the room and the other men. Her boss and Sean faced each other. Pepper couldn’t see very much of the other man from where she stood.

She heard Sean curse under his breath and glimpsed the man’s arm come up slowly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Looking past Sean, she saw the barrel of the gun Andy held, pointed at Tony. And still he didn’t move. She had never seen him like this before. Scary. Lethal. She knew that he was closer to violence then either of the other men truly realized. It might be crazy, but she felt safer with him in front of her, even unarmed. Tony wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That knowledge was as solid as the floor she stood on. The unknown was the man with the gun. The man that could kill Tony. The thought crushed the air from her lungs. _Tony, please._

“Mr. Stark.” The threat in Andy’s voice grew, and Sean’s stance changed; filled with menace.

Pepper didn’t know what to do, what to say. She was afraid to distract either of the men, but was desperate to keep Andy from shooting. “Mr. Stark.” His name on her lips was like a plea. She didn’t think he heard her. Frantically she eyed the men in front of her, as if she might somehow stop all this from happening. All she saw was anger in Sean and Andy’s face, the gun, and the tense muscles in Tony’s back. That was when she noticed the blood in his hair, and the dried blood on the back of his neck. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the pipe Sean had hit Tony with in the parking lot. _Don’t think about it now._ Eyes on the two kidnappers, and the gun, she put her hand on Tony’s arm – it might have as well have been carved in stone - hoping to get through to him.

Vaguely, she heard Andy spit out, “Sean get over here. Shit man, what did you do!?” Cursing again, Sean finally backed up, drawing even with the other man, behind the line of fire.

As Sean fell back behind Andy, Pepper felt the crackle in the air lessen. “Tony, please.” It was just above a whisper, but she knew this time he heard her. She felt the muscle under her hand relax.

Andy also seemed to notice the change. He took a step back, but he didn’t take his eyes off her boss. Lifting his foot, he pushed the box he’d brought in towards them. “Here Ms. Potts. Take what you need - I’ll be back later to take you back to your room.”

He left, taking a sullen Sean with him. The latch on the door clicked, and she and her boss were alone.

Pepper closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With the door closed, the man in front of her relaxed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was rough and he didn’t turn to look at her. She heard uncertainty there; something she’d never really heard before.

It wasn’t a simple question, and she didn’t know how to answer it. She settled for “yes.” The word sat in the air between them.

Tony moved away from her, back to the cot. He eased down on it with a small sound of pain. The sound reminded her she didn’t have much time. Quickly, she moved to the box Andy had left in the room with them. A roll of gauze, hydrogen peroxide, medical tape, some hand towels, a bag of ice. _Thank God._  
  
She picked the box up and started pulling from it. Towel. Peroxide. Quickly, she moved over to her boss. He was sitting down now, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sighed. “Hey,” she said softly. “I need to look at that.”

“This is my fault.”

“No.” It was as much a denial as an attempt to not talk about it. She knew she didn’t have much time until the kidnappers came back. She was trying not to panic at the thought of being taken away from him again. Being put back into the tiny room alone.

“Yes. It is. That bastard, Pepper…I couldn’t take it if..” He shook his head.

“Shh. I’m okay.” _I’m okay thanks to you, Tony._ The pain in his voice was unbearable. She put her hand on his shoulder, gently pushing. “Turn. Let me see your head.” She winced in sympathy when she found the angry welt on the back of his head. She cleaned it up as best she could, careful not to be too rough. It must have hurt, but he didn’t complain. The cut wasn’t bleeding anymore, and it didn’t look like it was too deep. It wouldn’t need stitches. She breathed a sigh of relief as she wrapped some ice in one of the towels, unconsciously pushing her hair back again.

Tony watched her silently as she retrieved another towel from the box, holding the ice pack to the back of his head. She came back and kneeled to his right. “Lean back.” He did, resting his back against the wall.

Normally, he would have taken care of the scratches on his side; they were well within his reach. But she wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. That bruise was so ugly and she wanted to get a better look at it. She didn’t notice the odd look he gave her as she gently started cleaning up the abrasions. They were shallow, so the cuts were more sensitive. He hissed at the sting of the peroxide, flinching away from her hand. “Sorry. Sorry.” She rushed to say. At the mansion he had some cleanser that had a numbing solution in it (she’d stocked it herself). She wished for that now. Finally, though, she was satisfied that he wouldn’t get an infection from the abrasions.

Another towel. More ice. Tony still sat silently, brooding. The air of self-recrimination surrounding him was shattering her attempt at calm, heightening her anxiety. When was Andy coming back to take her away? _Soon._ Despair at their situation threatened to overwhelm her, and she found herself again blinking away tears. She didn’t make any effort to brush the hair away from her face, thankful for it for once. Tony didn’t need to see her cry right now. She busied herself with the makeshift ice pack until she regained control, then turned back to see how they were going to get it to stay in place. There was nothing in the box to hold it – Tony would have to do it.

“Mr. Stark, you’re going to have to lay down, so we can get the ice to stay.” Her statement seemed to break his mood, because he looked up at her finally, and nodded.

Easing to his left, he slowly stretched out. She took his shirt and bundled it up as a cushion for his head, placing the first ice pack there to bring that awful welt down. She picked up the other ice pack she’d made. This was the last of the ice – she’d used the plastic bag it was in to keep it longer. “This is going to be cold, sorry.”

Laughing a little, Tony said, “thanks for the warning, but I think that’s the least of our problems.”

Chuckling, she muttered, “You have a point there.” Gently she put the ice pack on his waist, flinching a little at his gasp, and suddenly finding herself irrationally hesitant … because the ice pack really needed to be placed right at the beltline of his jeans. She frowned. Yeah. The ice pack wasn’t nearly large enough. She scolded herself. _Its not like you haven’t seen him in much less. Of course he was drunk then. And he wasn’t really looking at you. With those dark eyes._ She shook herself. _Stop it, Pepper!_  
  
She shifted the ice pack further down, where it would do more good. Then, completely by accident, her fingers brushed across his stomach as she turned back. His skin was so hot. Before she could stop herself, she ran her fingers softly across his stomach, over the darkening bruise, down to the hollow of his hip. She heard his breathing speed up.

He put his hand over hers. “That tickles.”

Something in his voice made Pepper look up. The brooding expression was gone, replaced with something smoldering that made Pepper’s heart race and her breath quicken. He sat up, letting go of her hand, and reached up to slowly push her hair away from her face. His thumb gently brushed across her cheek, across the streaks her tears had made. He frowned. “I didn’t know what had happened to you. When I woke up, I was so afraid, so afraid you were hurt. Or....” His eyes searched her face.

His touch felt so good, Pepper couldn’t help leaning her face in to his palm. Then, before she realized what was happening, his lips closed over hers. At first his mouth was soft, gentle, unsure of how she’d react. She could smell his aftershave and sweat, and she found herself responding, without thinking for once. Her hands moved up, wrapping her arms around his neck as her fingers tangled in his hair – careful of the injury there. Moaning softly, she felt his arms wrap around her waist; felt his hands slip under her blouse, hot on her back, pulling her closer. Their kiss had deepened, and Pepper’s breath was coming in little gasps. After years of telling herself to stay a step back, to avoid touching him, and reminding herself he was her boss…

 _Oh my god. This can’t happen now._ She put a hand on his chest, breaking the kiss and pulling away. He made a sound of protest and tried to pull her closer again. Then he caught himself.

He was silent a moment as his breathing shuddered, slowed. “Pepper….” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Potts. I’m sorry.” She looked into his eyes. He didn’t look sorry. None of the smolder had left his eyes and Pepper had to look away to compose herself.

Softly, she said, “No … please. I just think--,” she tried again. “I-I think we should focus on your injuries for now. I’m not sure when Andy….” Her voice broke and she shook her head. _Pepper, how did you get yourself into this? And how do you tell him you don’t want an apology?_  
  
“Am I interrupting something?” Andy stood at the door, taking in the tableau in front of him. Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark pulled away from each other. _Okay._ Maybe he was imagining things, but something about the way they were looking at each other told Andy he’d just walked in on something private. It was probably good that he’d sent Sean on a food run, no need to give him any more fuel for his stupid street thug games.

“No.” Mr. Stark replied, sitting up, turning to lean against the wall again. Andy didn’t know what to think. Ms. Potts wouldn’t look up, and she was digging through the remains of the makeshift first aid kit he’d brought in. It didn’t matter. None of his business.

Finally, Andy stepped forward, lifting a cable-tie. “Ms. Potts, time to go.” As she stood up gracefully, if reluctantly, movement in the corner of his eye made Andy glance over towards the man against the wall. He took a step back, his hand reflexively going to his belt where the gun was nestled, because Stark had gotten up. “Hey, man. Take it easy.”

“Leave her here.”

“I can’t do that. I’m not making the rules.”

Stark made an angry sound, gesturing at the zip-tie. “Don’t put that on her.”

Andy remembered the fight she put up in the parking lot. His shoulder still ached. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I can’t risk it.” Turning, he faced the woman, who stood quietly watching Mr. Stark and avoiding any eye contact with Andy. “Ms. Potts.”

She walked over to him and turned around so he could put on the cable-tie. As he tightened it, he noticed the bruises on her wrists. He felt like a shit. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She nodded quickly, and he noticed that her breathing was off, like she was crying and trying not to show it. He sighed, and put a hand on her arm to guide her out of the room. She didn’t move right away, and he was loath to add another bruise by pulling on her. So he paused a moment, to give her a second to get it together.

Then Stark was there, moving to stand in front of Ms. Potts. Andy started. _Crap. How does he do that?_  
_  
_ Mr. Stark lowered his head slightly, just enough to talk quietly to Ms. Potts. Andy stepped back, giving them a little space. He wasn’t a complete jerk.

Still, he watched them from the corner of his eye. Stark’s voice was clear in the small room, though he spoke softly. “Ms. Potts. We’ll get this taken care of. I just need to give them what they want. You sit tight.” Nothing he did portrayed anything but reassurance from a concerned employer to an upset employee. Except perhaps, for the way he brushed her hair from her face, or the way his hand lingered on her cheek. “You’re exhausted, Pepper. Try to get some rest. I’ll see you soon.” His eyes followed her, expression unreadable, as she turned back towards the door. Then Stark turned away, presumably to return to the mattress.

Andy was following Ms. Potts as she moved into the hallway when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw that Mr. Stark hadn’t gone back to the mattress. He forced himself not to jump. _Damn it, Andy. Pay attention!_ The lack of sleep was making him sloppy.

 _You’re still in control. You’re the one with the gun._ It just didn’t feel that way when, in the same quiet voice pitched lower so it wouldn’t carry, Stark said, “keep that animal away from her.” Andy felt the threat in his gut, and tried to ignore it. Ignore the threat or not, Andy knew Stark would hold him to it.  
  
Keeping an eye on Stark as he finally returned to his spot by the far wall, Andy followed the woman into the hallway, closing and bolting the door behind him. One thing this evening had shown him: he might not be in tip-top shape, but Stark wasn’t one to underestimate. Andy suspected the only reason the Stark hadn’t tried anything was because he hadn’t known where Sean was.

*******

****Max winced, holding the small ice pack to his eye. “You can stop smiling now, Sean,” he said darkly.

“Who’s smiling, boss? Not me. I’m just following orders.” The Stark-induced bruises lent Sean’s face a crazed look as he took the ice pack and put it on the desk before he walked around Max to secure his hands behind his back. “This was what you told me to do, remember?” They left the office and the two men began walking down the dingy hall, fluorescent lights flickering.

“Yeah. I remember.” They stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it. Sean grabbed Max’s arm and pushed him roughly into the room.

As Sean turned to leave, he threw the scripted threat to Max over his shoulder. “You have fifteen minutes.” He slammed the door, and Max turned to face the other occupant of the room.

She was staring at him, shocked. She took in the black eye, the wild hair, the torn shirt. “Mr. Moreau?!”

“Ms. Potts! Please, help me!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Darker still**

Things were getting desperate for Max. The codes hadn’t worked. He’d gotten concerned looks at the office when he’d lost his temper. He really shouldn’t have slammed the mouse on the desk like that. Cursing hadn’t helped either. He couldn’t afford for people to remember him acting oddly….especially right before the world figured out the _gre_ at Tony Stark had been kidnapped.

He’d gotten a cryptic and scary text message from his employer on his drive back. “We’re losing patience.”

He should have called them with an update. Somehow, though, he didn’t think ‘I couldn’t get the information you wanted’ would please them. It was just barely 24 hours since they’d captured Stark and Ms. Potts. What did they expect?!? That message, though, had scared the holy hell out of him…it’s meaning was clear. Shit. Death threats weren’t part of the plan.

His eye throbbed. Yet another reason for people to look at him strangely, but he hoped the black eye would help win over Ms. Potts. It was. She was staring at him with a mix of horror and concern on her face. Her expression was a lot like he felt right now. At this point, he could only pray she had a code that would grant full access to the system – one that only Stark’s assistant might be given. Otherwise he might as well ditch Andy and Sean, empty his bank account right now and head for the Netherlands. And hope his dangerous new employer didn’t have an office there.

He shook himself, trying not to let his anger and frustration show through, and continued the charade. “Please….Ms. Potts!”

This was all Stark’s fault.

*** * ***

Hissing, Tony leaned back, tossing the useless bag of water to the side. The former ice pack slid to the floor with a muted slosh. The ice was completely gone. How much time had gone by? How long since Pepper had been taken away?

He wasn’t sure. Two or three hours? Probably not more than that. After the door had closed on Pepper, leaving him alone in the dim light with his dark thoughts, he’d spent a long time running over everything, again and again. And still, nothing had changed. No tools, no leverage, no information. No plan. Frustrated and exhausted, he’d conceded that all he was doing was driving himself insane…. but tired as he was he still couldn’t sleep. So instead he’d focused on the cold of the ice packs, trying to avoid too much thought about either their situation or the pain he was in.

Now, though, the comforting cold had worn off and his side and head were throbbing. Combined with the rolling queasiness from the fast food Andy had brought him (at the time, divine in its greasy goodness), Tony was rapidly moving from being painfully uncomfortable to completely miserable. Next time, he’d ask for Burger King. At least he could handle ‘BK’ greasy.

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall. He knew what all these random thoughts were about. Avoidance. Unfortunately, avoidance is more workable when you have two ice packs and food in front of you (especially if you haven’t eaten for nearly 24 hours). Once all the distractions were exhausted, it was just stupid to try to keep it up. No ice, no food, and no armor now, so no excuses.

Gritting his teeth, Tony pushed the edge of his jeans down, feeling gently along his hip. “Ahh!” _Okay. Don’t do that._ But the exploration had confirmed his earlier guess. Well, as much as was possible without an x-ray. The injury was a hip pointer. Probably. Which meant there was nothing broken. Probably. Either way, it was definitely a hell of a deep bruise and at least a tear in the muscle. Hopefully no bone chips broken off the pelvis. That could be bad.

It’s amazing what you learn about injuries and the human body after a year buzzing around the globe hunting bad guys in a tin suit. Or more precisely, a gold-titanium-alloy suit. _Eh, to-may-to, to-mah-to._

The upshot was a hip pointer is not life threatening (in normal circumstances). It was just extremely painful, a long time healing, and definitely going to slow him down. Of course, in these circumstances ‘slowing down’ was potentially fatal. _Note to self: in the future, try not to bounce so much when falling from great heights._ He shook his head. As much as he dreaded it, it was time to move…and stretch - to keep from losing any range of motion and prevent it from getting worse.

Ignoring the voice that was having a screaming hissy fit and telling him to _‘stay still!’_ and _‘moving hurts!’_ he braced himself and stood up carefully. It was hard. He tried a gentle stretch. It burned. He hesitated, taking a deep breath. He really just wanted to sit back down. It would feel better, but that would be a mistake. “Just a stretch. Yeah. A short stretch.” His voice fell into the empty room, sounding worse than he wanted to admit. _Pepper would tell you to get some sleep._ He frowned. Stubbornly gritting his teeth, he focused on relaxing and keeping his mind off sore muscles.

Skirting the pain, his mind floundered again through the last few hours, still looking for something to grasp – something he could exploit now to get Pepper out and to safety. Nothing. It was infuriating. He was so tired.

He closed his eyes on the memory of Pepper leaving the room, hands tied behind her back, hair in her face. And the kidnapper, gripping Pepper’s arm, guiding her away from Tony…back to a room that Sean no doubt had access to. He ground his teeth, trying unsuccessfully to shove the anger away.

_She was crying, Tony. Pepper! She was crying and scared and after that bastard attacked her you still let them take her away._

The rational part of him said there’d been no choice. He had to let Andy take her back to wherever they were keeping her. Tony could crunch numbers with the best. The odds of overcoming two men (and at least one of them with a gun) when he was unarmed, injured and exhausted weren’t in his favor. To get out of this, to get Pepper out of this, he needed more information – more time, and some kind of weapon to work with.

_You only saw Andy. Where was Sean?_ In the hallway, his mind supplied quickly. Waiting. Waiting for an excuse to kill Tony, so he could do what he wanted to Pepper. Tony’s memory flickered with the picture of that sneering ugly face leering at Pepper, too close to her, too close to hurting her. His stretch abruptly ended in a jerk, his breath coming harshly and sending a spike of pain shooting through his side. He stopped moving for a second to let it subside. _You’re not helping either one of you. Stay calm._ He worked to control his breathing, and savored the memory of the shock on the bastard’s face when his fist caught Sean across the jaw.

As he pulled gently but persistently at his aching body, the burn quickly spread through the tortured muscles across his ribs and settled into his hip, warning him how far he could push it. As he adjusted his movements, unconsciously his thoughts returned to Pepper and kissing her, replaying it again in his mind. It felt so good. So right. The feel of her against him, her soft breath, her scent. Her hair smelled of lavender. He knew that it was her favorite – that delicate perfume greeted him every morning when she handed him his coffee. He realized he hadn’t ever bought her perfume. Of any kind. Why not?

The answer came with a painful pang a moment later. _Because you’ve had her buy her own gifts after the first year you forgot her birthday… ‘It’s better than a gift card’, remember?_

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he strained against stubborn, tight muscles. This was not working. Maybe stretching wasn’t the answer. Forcing his breathing to slow, he shifted into the forms he used when he was working out. At first, it was difficult to move smoothly, but after a few minutes he settled into a familiar rhythm.

Blissfully, his mind blanked as he relied on his muscles to remember each move. After ten months of dedicated training, it wasn’t difficult. He forgot the pain, the fatigue, the frustration and the anger of the last several hours and floated on the comfort of long practiced movements.

It worked for a while, until his mind returned to the whisper of her fingers across his skin. The smell of her, the feeling of her mouth against his as her moan shivered down his spine. And then, maddeningly, losing all of that when she pulled away.

_No, she pushed you away. You went too far._ He shook his head. But it had felt so right. And it seemed like she….had he read her wrong?

Pulling out of the last form, he stopped, breathing hard now. Without thinking, his hand went to his chest, where her hand had lain. Holding him back. _You weren’t trying to see how she felt about it… you only cared about what you wanted._

_She pushed you away._

He’d gone too far and worse, he’d done it now, while they were in this horrible situation.

Breathing deeply, he ran a hand over his face. His pain was momentarily forgotten as twisting guilt churned in the pit of his stomach. _Pepper. I’m sorry._

***** * *

“Please, Ms. Potts. They have my sister.” The voice was taut with strain; hands trembled in agitation. Max stepped closer, crowding Pepper. She stepped back unconsciously, feeling trapped and fighting a feeling of panic.

Pepper had been back in her “cell” for a few hours, pacing again after picking at the meal Andy had brought in. Now, she stared at the man in front of her, his plea echoing in her head. She didn’t know what she’d expected when the door creaked open again, but it had not been this; she was shocked.

She knew this man. Mr. Moreau. He worked at the factory. She remembered seeing him in the hallways as she went from meeting to meeting. They’d chatted a few times. What was he to these people? He wasn’t in a high security position.

“Mr. Moreau. I don’t know what I can possibly do. They have me also.”

He told her what she could do. And it was so obvious, so inevitable, that it was all Pepper could do to not throw up. She should have expected it.

He was asking for her security pass code. They wanted the pass code. Of course they did. If she gave it to them, her codes in particular, they would have unfettered access to the most confidential information at Stark Industries. Her gut wrenched at the thought of what that would mean to Tony. That information, nearly all of Tony’s work (weapons, energy systems, everything) could be accessed – stolen - with her clearance. With that data, they could wreak havoc. Sell it to the highest bidder – terrorists, other governments, it didn’t matter. People would be hurt - killed, and she knew Tony would feel that however indirectly, it was his responsibility.

It would kill him.

If she didn’t give the bastards what they wanted - they’d kill Mr. Moreau, his sister, and probably Pepper and Tony as well. She didn’t doubt it. That the threat had not actually been given did not mean much - it wasn’t much of a leap. Pepper wasn’t an idiot.

_Oh, God. What do I do?_ She desperately wished she could talk to Tony. He would know what to do.

“Ms. Potts….” The voice startled her out of her thoughts. “They’re coming back soon….please…” She looked up into the face of the man in front of her. His eyes were anxious, dark circles adding to his bedraggled appearance.

“Mr. Moreau…I-I don’t know. That information is dangerous…”

“But…my sister! They’re going to hurt her!” The strain in his voice increased and his voice echoed through the room.

_Please. I can’t make this kind of choice!_ Pepper turned away, not able to look in those pleading eyes any longer. She paced to the far wall and turned, preparing to make the worse decision of her life. Because no matter what she did now, she lost.

She started to speak when the door to the room opened, interrupting her. Mr. Moreau, who had been waiting anxiously for her response, didn’t move from his position kneeling at the edge of the ratty cot they’d left her with.

But.

At the creak of the door, before Pepper looked up to see Sean’s smug face, she saw an expression flash across her fellow “captive’s” face. Annoyance. It flickered and passed so quickly she might have been mistaken. _What the hell?!_ Alarm bells sounded in the back of her head and her heart started pounding. _Pepper, you’re exhausted, stressed….maybe you saw something else._ She paused, looking at the man in front of her. Moreau's eyes looked into hers, anxious once again, with no hint of anything else.

Carefully, she said, “Mr. Moreau….I can’t make that decision. People could die if information on those weapons got out. And…” Not really knowing why, but going on instinct, she finished, “it would hurt Mr. Stark. I can’t.”

He’d been leaning forward attentively, and again, briefly that flicker of annoyance, now mixed with anger, crossed his features.

_Captive my ass! Moreau is a part of this!!_

She threw caution to the wind as stress, rage and exhaustion made her reckless. She snapped, “Christmas bonus not enough last year, Mr. Moreau? Whatever you’re getting for this you’d better take it and run as far as you can, because I guarantee this is going to catch up to you.”

Her former co-worker was taken completely by surprise. Amazingly, in the face of her anger, he still had the nerve to try to deflect it. “What? I don’t understand.”

“Oh please.”

Apparently, he figured out he wouldn’t be able to fool her. “… Ms. Potts. I’m impressed. Was my acting that bad?”

_Arrogant son-of-a-bitch._ She ignored the question. “No matter what happens here, you do know there’s nowhere you can hide, don’t you?”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments as his eyes scanned her face. Inexplicably, he tilted his head slightly and his eyes looked off over her right shoulder. It was confusing, until his eyes took on a dreamy expression. Then, instead of confusing, it was just plain creepy. Apparently either not hearing her or not taking her words seriously, he responded, “Virginia. Don’t be silly. I’m doing this for a reason. For us. Maybe you don’t appreciate it right now, but you will later. He won’t be a problem by then.” He stepped towards her then, reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder.

Shuddering, she stepped back. “What ‘us’?”

He hesitated at that, looking surprised. “Don’t be like that.” He frowned. “This is about him, isn’t it. Stark? You’re sleeping with him.” The accusation and the anger in his voice caught Pepper completely off guard.

“What?” Pepper watched as he looked down at the floor, shaking his head.

“Yes, I should have known. There’s no way you couldn’t be. I thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt…that maybe you weren’t his little whore. Maybe it was just a rumor, but no.” He was talking to himself now, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Pepper spoke quietly, almost afraid of getting his attention, but suddenly unable to remain silent. “Moreau, why are you really doing this?” _No. This can’t be about me._

Seeming to calm himself, he tried again in what he probably thought was a reasonable tone. “Virginia. I need those codes. It won’t matter to Stark, I promise you.”

Dread, heavy and cold, settled in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, Virginia. That arrogant ass doesn’t care about you. You must know that. You’re just another feather in his cap. But don’t worry. I’ve got plans for him. He won’t be taking you _\- or anyone_ \- for granted any more.”

This conversation had gone from creepy to scary. The excitement and relish in his voice at what he had planned for her boss was more than Pepper could handle, and it seriously pissed her off. “He doesn’t take me for granted,” she snapped. “And he would never try to manipulate me by lying to me. He’s definitely not a man who's so pathetic that he has to resort to kidnapping or threats to get what he wants.”

That got Max’s attention. The glare he gave her said she’d gone too far. She was too angry to care. His voice was a near growl as he stalked over to her. “I need those codes. You’re going to give them to me.”

Furious, she met his eyes. “You can go to Hell.”

Too quickly for her to react, Moreau whipped his hand up and backhanded Pepper across her cheek, whipping her head around. Her breath went out of her and the force of the strike knocked her back against the wall, shock more than pain registering as her hand came up to her face. He’d hit her high enough on her cheek that she was going have a black eye, for certain.

He turned and stormed out, brushing past a waiting Sean. Sean lingered, glancing after the other man’s retreating back with contempt, and then looking back at Pepper leaning against the wall. He smiled and licked his lips. Pepper refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Finally, he shut the door.

Pepper swept her hair away from her face, touching the tender spot near her eye. Her heart slowly calmed and the flush of anger left her shaking. She felt ill. The choice she’d been given was a lose-lose, even before her temper tantrum. Of course, now it was even more so. Her cheek throbbed.

_Tony…I hope I didn’t just kill us both._

***** * *

Tony might have been imagining it, but when the door creaked open again, there was an ominous note to the sound. He’d been dozing, and it took him a moment to come fully awake. By that time, his host/captor had entered the room.

Silently Tony took in the black eye, the angry stride, and the agitation overlying obvious fury. He said, “That’s a good look for you. What happened, walk into a door?”

“Shut the hell up.” Turning slightly, the man threw a call sharply over his shoulder, “Sean!” From his mood, it was obvious this visit had nothing to do with the ‘tasks’ Tony was supposed to work on.

No, nothing good was going to come from this meeting.

The door opened wider, and Sean stepped in the room, a nasty smile on his face. A sinking feeling started somewhere in Tony’s gut and spread. He stood up, his back to the wall. This was going from bad to worse.

“Bring him over here.”

“Sure thing, Max…er, _Boss_.” Tony didn’t miss the glare from ‘Max’ to Sean, or the note of disrespect in Sean’s voice. Interesting. Apparently, ‘Max’ didn’t want his name known, and apparently, Sean really didn’t really care.

Sean walked over quickly, the smile never wavering. Suddenly and without warning his arm shot forward, slamming viciously into Tony's side. The blow was solid and the fragile relief Tony had gained from his injuries was instantly shattered. The shock of pain hit him and stars flared behind his eyes. He stumbled.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Sean yanked him to the middle of the room. Muscles screaming and momentarily unseeing, Tony struggled to catch his breath. He thought he heard Max step around him to stand at his back. A labored breath later, Tony felt his arms pulled back and bound once again, behind him. _Oh, Shit. Not good._

The headache was back full force, and Tony felt foggy. Blinking furiously, he tried to clear his vision. He got his bearings just as Sean hit him again. Again, and again. Apparently, Sean was the type to hold a grudge. For every strike, every hit, the grin on the thug’s face got wider. Sean's laugh rang in his ears when Tony dropped to his knees, unable to stand any longer. Overbalancing because his hands were tied behind his back, a stab of fear hit as he almost fell over; he didn't know what Sean would do to him if that happened, but it was increasingly difficult to remain kneeling. He could see Max from the corner of his eye, standing by the door now, watching and waiting. _Waiting for what?_

He didn’t get to ask. And after a moment, he’d forgotten the question. The punishment kept coming. Tony couldn’t get loose. His head was spinning. Everything was fuzzy; he couldn’t think. He thought he heard voices then, a too recent nightmare pushing to the surface. He strained to make out the words, but he couldn't. Demanding and harsh, the clipped notes were of another language. Hopelessness washed over him – there was no one riding in to save him. No calvary. Rhodey wasn’t coming this time. He was going to die in this desert, alone. And Pepper would never know what happened to him. His head rocked back and he tasted blood.

“Sean! What the hell!!”

A dark chuckle broke through. “Sorry, boss. I got carried away.” The nightmare voices faded, and reality reasserted itself. Sean was gleefully working up a sweat. At Max’s infuriated yell, the blows to Tony’s face stopped, only to be replaced once again with the tortuous beating to his body.

All the training and successful missions and he couldn’t do anything to stop this. Humiliation burned. It would be so much easier to just give in, lay down. Stop hurting. Let them do what they want. Then the iron will that allowed him to survive Afghanistan got angry – _yeah it hurts, but it's not shrapnel or waking up during open-heart surgery without anesthetic. Deal with it. You can't leave Pepper to this._

The fog cleared. Tony glanced up, a look conveying a message to his tormentor. _You fucker. You’re going to pay for this._ Sean got it all right, but that didn’t stop him from loving every minute of it. His lips curled in an ugly sneer, and he continued.

Tony really didn’t want to see Sean’s face anymore. He closed his eyes and concentrated on just enduring, stubborn and silent. He tried to find that place he went to when he was working out - that almost Zen-like state where he disconnected from his body and just _was_. For a time, it worked. He looked up again at one point to see Max watching with a satisfied, cheerful look on his face. That look was slowly replaced by frustration as Tony refused them the satisfaction of crying out as Sean worked him over. How much time had gone by? It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. It felt like hours.

The questions, the demands that Tony expected never came. If he hadn’t been in mind-numbing pain he would have been bewildered. The few verbal jibes he’d delivered to Max wouldn’t be the reason for this. Just as he couldn’t see it as retribution for protecting Pepper from Sean earlier. That little altercation wouldn’t mean anything to the boss of this horrible game.

It just continued, seemingly without purpose. Max standing silently and Sean breathing hard now, sweat streaming down his face. Beyond that, the only sounds were Tony’s involuntary response to each painful blow.

_Why? I know the guy’s pissed about something, but what? …Pepper?_ Despite the beating, that thought was distracting enough to send a cold chill through him. What if this was not about something Tony did, but somehow about his assistant? What did that mean?

Finally, Sean tired and stepped back. As Max looked on, the two men eyed each other, one trying to catch his breath from exertion, the other trying to gather his strength for the next assault.

In the brief silence came another sound. A cry, on the edge of Tony’s hearing. “Stop, please!”

Tony’s head snapped around. He struggled to stand. _Pepper!_

Sean was galvanized by Tony’s movement. He stepped forward after a glance at Max, throwing another punch to Tony’s midsection. The break in the beating had done more harm then good. This next blow was devastating. Tony felt his consciousness going. Black spots exploded behind his eyelids. Everything was getting dark around the edges. Sean’s rictus-like grin filled the tortured man’s vision as he continued, clearly getting back into the rhythm now.

Again, came Pepper’s voice, hysterical now. She was crying, screaming. “No, no, no!! Stop! I’ll tell you…I’ll tell you! Please!!” Max was looking towards the hallway, a self-satisfied, smug expression plastered across his features.

Tony didn’t know what it meant; it couldn’t be good. But his mind was too foggy. He just wasn’t going to be able to figure that out right now. Vaguely, he heard Max say, “Yes! We’ve got what we need.”

The body blows stopped, replaced by a jab to his face. “Sean you idiot, stop! We’ve got it!” Another jab. His head snapped back. He felt it dimly – the room was fading away, shadows dancing in closer. All he knew was that Pepper was screaming. The terror in her voice lanced through him, more painful than anything Sean had done. It followed Tony into the dark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Fall out**

Pepper stewed after Moreau left, anxious and afraid of the consequences of their argument. Of her refusal to cooperate. It wasn’t long before her worries were realized. She knew when the door opened that Moreau had something horrible planned. Defensively, Pepper stood up and backed into the corner. Something about the expression on his face stole the breath from her. Stalking over, he wordlessly grabbed her arm, hard enough to bruise. “Turn around.” He tied her arms behind her.

Heart pounding, she had trouble keeping up as he pulled her into the hallway. Obviously, he was still furious about their last meeting and his silence was frightening. She nearly asked, but the venomous look on his face prevented her from saying anything.

The further they went the more frightened she became. She felt horribly alone. Moreau led her to the door of a room she’d never seen before and pushed it open. She was greeted by the hum of electronics. A single chair stood empty in the middle of the room.

He told her to sit. Quickly, he tied her arms and legs to the chair. She was so preoccupied by what she thought was coming, she didn’t note her surroundings until he was done. Confused, she watched as he gave her a malicious smile, turned and walked out, leaving the door open.

She looked around. The room looked like a security room. There were only a few things in it – a cooler sat on the floor at the far end of the room. The chair she sat in was a few feet back from a desk with several things on it - a row of monitors, a pair of cheap looking speakers and a small bank of switches. There was nothing else in the room.

The chair was positioned so Pepper had a clear view of the monitors. They were all empty but one.

“No.”

Her boss was sitting, leaning back against the wall. He looked exhausted. He was in the same position he’d been in when they’d taken her to him earlier. One knee up. Fingers tangled in his hair. She saw him look up as the door opened and Moreau and Sean entered the room. Tony’s voice came through the speakers clearly. “That’s a good look for you. What happened, walk into a door?”

Moreau’s voice, irritated, followed quickly. “Shut the hell up.” She saw Moreau glance away then, and call Sean into the room. Tony stood up and put his back to the wall as the two men advanced on him. Raw fear swelled then, threatening to drown her.

She watched, helpless, as Sean threw the first blow, and as the man dragged Tony to the middle of the room, she struggled - trying to free herself - but the chair didn’t budge. _No no no no! He’s already hurt, you can’t do this!_ Panicked, she looked down and saw they’d bolted the chair to the floor. She couldn’t do anything as Moreau bound Tony’s arms. She cried as Sean let loose, the bastard taking a vindictive pleasure from the pain he caused to the dark-haired prisoner. Horribly, the speakers in the room piped in the sound of every strike, every sound of pain, and the abuse when on and on.

_God, please stop this!_ But it didn’t stop. Tony fell to his knees. Sean moved from body blows to his face, and it wasn’t long before a thin trickle of blood ran down his face from the cut to his mouth. He was barely staying upright, dusky hair tumbling into his eyes as his chest heaved, and Pepper was near hysteria.  
_  
The codes…he wants the codes. Give them to him!_ She kept expecting Moreau to talk to Tony – to demand the codes. She knew Tony wouldn’t give in. He’d die first. But Moreau didn’t speak, didn’t question, didn’t demand. He just waited.

That was when she realized, Moreau knew that. He’d never ask Tony. Moreau was waiting for her.

_They’re killing him._ She flinched at each blow, seeing his muscles clench with the pain of each shuddering impact.  
_  
_ “No, no, no!! Stop! I’ll tell you…I’ll tell you! Please!!”

Tony’s head was dropping. Pepper watched in horror as he fell, landing hard in the dust. She saw Moreau’s face split into a broad smile. He said something – she didn’t hear what. Sean didn’t let up. Moreau spoke again, his voice much louder as he tried to get through to his underling. This time, the words came through. “Sean you idiot, stop! We’ve got it!” __  
  
Ignoring him, Sean crouched, throwing another punch.

Screaming hysterically now, Pepper didn’t know if Sean could hear her or not – she just knew he had to stop. “ _Nooo! I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you, stop you’re killing him!”_

Lost in bloodlust, Sean either didn’t hear or didn’t care. Grinning insanely, he raised his leg, intending to stomp on the fallen man. She watched as Moreau threw himself at Sean’s back, pulling him off balance. Sean stumbled back, turning ferociously on his boss.

Moreau didn’t back down, just as furious. “Sean! _Back_ _the fuck off_ , or you don’t get paid!!” For a moment, it looked like Sean was considering blowing his payday. Finally, he scowled and left the room.

Pepper didn’t notice when Moreau left the cell; she only had eyes for her boss. He was still. So still. She couldn’t even see if he was breathing.

The sound of footsteps pulled her eyes from the monitor. Moreau came in, still smiling. He had a pen and paper. He released her right arm and, with her hand shaking so badly she could barely write, she gave him the information he wanted. “Please, help him.”

He followed her eyes to the monitor. He looked back at her. He snorted. “Not such a big man now, is he?”

Undoing the rest of her bonds, he pulled her roughly to her feet and shoved her out the door. She stumbled through her tears and tripped, her face scraping painfully against the far wall. She heard a short laugh behind her. Then, once again with a painful grip on her arm, Moreau practically dragged her down the hall and threw her back in the cell they were keeping her in.

Crying, she curled up on the mattress, dimly hearing the door clang shut. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t think. She kept hearing over and over the sickening sound of fists making contact … and Sean’s cruel laughter when Tony finally cried out.

Andy came in later. She didn’t know how much later. The stocky kidnapper seemed surprised and upset at her condition, though obviously trying not to show it. “Get up, Ms. Potts,” and reading the plea in her look, he said more softly, “I’m taking you to see him.”

Hurrying to comply, she quickly got up, wiping her eyes before putting her arms behind her back. When they got into the hallway, she saw he’d left a box there, filled with first aid supplies. He picked it up and without another word, jerked his head in the direction of Tony’s cell. Quickly, she walked down the hall, passing room after room until finally they reached the door with the new-looking lock.

Andy unlocked the door and led her in. Her breath hitched at what she saw - Tony lying still and broken-looking in the middle of the room. Andy undid her bonds, cursing under his breath. He unceremoniously dropped the “first aid” box next to her and stomped out, locking the door behind him.

Quickly, she moved over to the unconscious man. She could see the rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing.  
**  
** “Tony.” There was no response.

“Tony….please. Oh God, please.” Her voice cracked in a sob. Gently, she knelt next to him and turned his head, brushing the hair away from his forehead.

Relief flooded Pepper when Tony opened his eyes. She watched him take a deep breath and focus on her, frowning. She wondered briefly what he must be thinking as he took in the tears and the scrape on her cheek, red and angry. _Don’t forget the shiner, Pepper._ Her eye must be black and blue by now.

“Pepp..” He cleared his throat. Tried again. “Pepper. What happened?”

Pepper looked at the storm brewing behind his eyes and knew he was talking about her face. Absurdly, she wanted to laugh. The man had certainly just had the beating of his life, and he was upset about her getting a black eye.

Ignoring his question, she said quietly, “Tony. Please, you need to get over to the bed so we can see how badly they hurt you.”

He shook his head, not wanting to change the subject, and then moaned. His hand shakily found its way to his face and he rubbed at his eyes. “um…right.” Before Pepper could move to help, he shifted, obviously intending to sit up. Instead, he rolled from his side to his back, his face pale. “ _Ahhh_!”

“ _Tony_!?”

He held up a hand. “Shhh…it’s okay…I-I just…” He exhaled, grimacing. “Oooh _shit_. I hurt.”

Deciding quickly, Pepper said, “Okay, change of plan. Don’t move.”

“Yeah…okay…good plan,” he breathed.

She moved the mattress over to the middle of the room, and gently helped Tony ease onto the bed. She rolled up a towel and put it under his head. Though obviously in pain, he didn’t complain.

She pulled over the cardboard box, refilled now, with more ice and first aid supplies. Grabbing another towel, she wet it. Squeezing out the excess water, she turned back to him. His eyes were closed again. He was so still. Her heart skipped a beat. “Still with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding stronger.

Lifting the cloth, she started to wipe the dirt and blood from his mouth and nose. He opened his eyes and raised his hand, looking like he meant to take it from her. She pulled away saying, “Don’t even think about it.” Giving her a cross look, he dropped his arm. Faced with that expression, Pepper raised an eyebrow and continued, wiping the damp cool cloth up across his cheek and to his forehead.

_After everything, he’s still stubborn-headed._ It was the closest she could get to knowing he was going to be okay; she took it as a good sign that he could be grumpy with her. It felt really odd that after everything that had happened, Pepper could still smile to herself because her boss was being grumpy…but that exchange had been just like millions they’d had over the years. And though she’d never admit it, Pepper loved winning their little contests. She realized she had a tiny smile on her lips (the smile she always wore when she won) just as his scowl turned into something else, and something unspoken entered his eyes. That look confused her, making her heart speed up and scaring her at the same time. It left her shaky and uncertain when he abruptly looked away.

Rinsing the towel, she gently finished his face and watched as he felt along the cut on his mouth. “…How long have you been here?” His voice was quiet, and a question hung there, raising the tension between them – _what did you see?_ She felt herself go cold. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want this conversation.

Choosing not to answer the unspoken question, she said, “for just a few minutes, Mr. Stark.” And in her anxiety, Pepper heard his formal name slip from her lips; she wasn’t sure why. She instantly regretted it. Using it in this situation felt like she’d just put her hands on his shoulders and pushed. Now. After what he’d just been through. She saw a flash of hurt and then the shutters came down behind his eyes. _Pepper, what’s wrong with you?_  
_  
_ “Right.” He was quiet then, as she turned away to make the ice packs - feeling horrible for wounding him. Her hands were busy, though, and she tried to dismiss the gnawing in her stomach as she concentrated on what she had to do. She silently assembled the ice packs. Andy, apparently anticipating their needs, had included extra ice with plastic bags and a stack of rag towels. Still, she needed to make several so it took a few minutes. She used the time to settle her thoughts. Calmer when she turned back, she had in mind the firm intention of assessing his injuries and trying to do what she could to make him more comfortable.

One look at the closed expression on her boss’ face, though, and all of her intentions evaporated.

She needed to explain herself, but the crushing anxiety rolling in the pit of her stomach was stealing the air from her lungs. She took a deep breath. “Mr. Stark…” He looked up at her, but his eyes quickly moved away, and she suddenly realized why she was hiding behind stiff formality.

She was terrified. Of what Tony would do when he found out. _You told them, Pepper._ She’d given them what they wanted, knowing what it would do to Tony. They had the codes and now they could hurt… _kill_ countless people, because of her. Tony would blame himself for their deaths, and he would hate her for giving Moreau what he wanted.

She looked into the dark eyes in front of her, waiting for her, and felt the tears come again. “They were killing you,” she whispered.

He frowned, grimacing in pain as he carefully pushed himself up to sitting. “Pep…” he stopped and apparently taking his cue from her, corrected himself. “Ms. Potts. What are you saying?” He was quiet a moment before continuing, “I...” He hesitated, and then said slowly, “I thought I heard you … screaming…”  
_  
_ Tony groped through his hazy memory. It had all happened so quickly he still hadn’t had time to sort it all out. He remembered noting clues, important at the time, but they were elusive now that it was over. And right now, he hurt. He really hurt. His head was screaming and it felt like his entire body was one big nasty bruise. He wanted nothing more but to lay down and go to sleep. But this was important. He shied away from the pain he was in, frowning. Ignored the images of Sean and Max and the dust in the air from the dim bulb. He pushed past the feeling of each blow with its shock of pain, and the smell and taste of blood. He _had_ heard her screaming. Pleading. Before everything went black.

He looked to her for confirmation, but she wouldn’t face him. “Ms….” He exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Fuck this. _Pepper_.” She didn’t look up. “Pepper. Look at me.” He reached out, ignoring the scream from bruises just forming and put his fingers to her cheek, turning her to face him. Still, her eyes avoided him, tears silently streaking down her face. “Pep … for God’s sake, _tell_ me.”

Whether it was the directive, or his tone, he wasn’t sure. But she did. She told him about the visit from Moreau. His attempt at deception, his demands. Haltingly, she told him of being taken from her room and bound to a chair. Involuntarily Tony tensed, fearing what would come next. But it wasn’t what he thought. She’d been left unassaulted, but was forced to watch what had happened to _him_.

She’d seen everything.

And inexplicably, Tony was ashamed. He told himself he shouldn’t be. But that didn’t help. The shame burned hot and bright, scalding him and making it hard to breathe. _Pepper’s seen you much worse. She’s seen you miserable. Drunk off your ass and helped you get cleaned up. She’s seen you hurt before, after missions. She’s even patched you up._

_You did nothing wrong._

This was different. It wasn’t that he did nothing wrong. It was that he couldn’t do _anything_. Even in Afghanistan, he’d been given a choice. Do what they wanted or die. This time though, there had been no choice. No control. And Sean. Fucking _bastard_. Had taken great pleasure in doing exactly what he wanted, knowing that Tony couldn’t stop him.

The memories came flooding in again, this time with the knowledge that his assistant had been an unwilling audience to it all.

He looked away from her and squeezed his eyes shut. His throat tightened and he took slow deep breaths, trying to calm down. _Sean was smiling madly and Tony felt the impact of another blow - agony bursting in his chest - as it crushed the air from his lungs._ He didn’t notice when Pepper set the ice packs on the floor and moved closer. _Then he was falling to his knees, unable to stand any more._ He was trembling, desperate to stay in control.

He smelled lavender. He choked out, his voice tortured, “Pepper, please....” _I-I need some space…I don’t think I can handle this._ He felt her hair, brush softly against his face as her arms went tentatively around him.

“Tony.” Her voice, for years a source of comfort for him, was full of anguish and tears. And that was all it took for what little control he had left to slip away. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her tightly against him. He turned his face into the hollow of her neck before the first tears fell. He couldn’t stop shaking. Pepper didn’t say anything or pull away – she just closed her eyes, running her fingers through his dark hair as he let go of the hurt.

*** * ***

Andy turned away from the monitor. There wasn’t any risk of them escaping, especially now. Stark was pretty fucked up. The least he could do was give them a little privacy.

He ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe how badly this job was going wrong. He’d gone to get some shut-eye. Just a few hours. He comes back for his shift, and finds Sean looking smug, heading out for his sleep break. Max had already left.

Andy had refilled the cooler and turned around to face the monitors. Instead of seeing two sleeping captives, or two pacing captives, or two anything else captives, he sees a battered woman curled up crying and an unconscious man who looked like he’d just been beaten to within an inch of his life.

Not knowing what the hell had happened, he’d gone quickly to check on Stark. Still breathing, but not looking so good.

After that, he’d tried to call Max to see what the hell was going on, but got his voicemail.

Obviously, he was being left to clean up the mess. Deciding, he made a stop to refill the box of emergency first aid supplies on his way to check on Ms. Potts. He found her in the same position he’d seen her in earlier and it was obvious that she’d been slapped around. It wasn’t so obvious if she’d suffered anything else, but the frustrated anger Andy felt in seeing the welt on her face was enough that he didn’t ask.

Knowing wouldn’t help anything at this point, and it was more important that someone get first aid to Mr. Stark.

Andy clearly remembered the conditions he’d been given when he took the job. “It’s just going to be a quick nab. We’re holding them for a few days. A little babysitting, we get paid and that’s it.”

Andy couldn’t believe what an idiot he’d been. He should have known Max wasn’t being straight with him. _There wasn’t supposed to be no beating, no abuse. This job, the money, ain’t worth none of this._

***** * *

As his breathing slowed, Tony became acutely aware of Pepper around him. He heard her swallow, felt her hands in his hair. His head had slipped down as he curled against her and he could hear her heart beating. Now that he was more himself, his body was reminding him of the pain he was in, the aches and pains calling for attention. He really didn’t want to move.

Finally, he felt calm enough to pull back from Pepper’s comfort. He lifted his head, catching again the whiff of lavender from her hair. He breathed it in, looking at his assistant. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about what had just happened, but he wasn’t about to analyze it. Pepper was still avoiding his gaze; obviously she didn’t know how she should be feeling either.

“Thank you,” he said simply. She gave him a small hesitant smile and nodded. He watched her as she wiped her eyes and turned away from him, apparently intending to retrieve the melting ice packs. Frowning slightly, he caught her hand. “Pepper. That wasn’t everything you needed to tell me, was it.” It wasn’t a question. He knew her. She hadn’t told him the worst of it, and that worried him. He didn’t know if he was ready for the answer, but he needed to know what the shadow behind her eyes was.

Finally, she met his gaze. For a moment, anyway. “No.” Her voice was so quiet, even in the silence of the room, he had to strain to hear it.

“Pepper. Things really can’t get much worse.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Yes, they can. You don’t understand.”

That was scary. “What is it? What’s going on, Pepper?”

She bit her lip, fear creasing her brow. Fear of what? _Is she afraid of me?_

“Tony…” She took a breath, and exhaled. Tried again. “Tony, Sean and Moreau weren’t just having fun…”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” and now that he had a moment to actually think about it, it clicked. “What did they want from you?” He tried not to make it an accusation, but pain and fear made his voice harsh, and she cringed.

“The codes.” It was a whisper. He immediately knew what she meant.

“Oh.” The implications of that flashed through his mind in an instant. He looked at her, sitting next to him. She was crying again and her arms were wrapped around her shoulders, as if shielding herself. _Pepper, what have I done to you? You’re afraid of me._  
_  
_ “I’m so sorry, sir. They wouldn’t stop…I-I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear it…” She raised her eyes to look at him, eyes glistening, desperate. That look tore into him.

Mindless of the pain it caused him, he reached out and pulled her close. She stiffened, resisting him, her hands coming up against his chest and it flashed painfully through his mind that she might push him away. But she didn’t, and after a moment she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. “Shhh…Pepper, there wasn’t anything you could have done. They didn’t give you a choice.” Tony didn’t want to think of how she must have felt, being forced to watch what had happened to him. It must have been horrible. Her tears soaked through the thin material of his shirt as he ran his hands over her hair.

He held her until he felt her breathing steady and she calmed down. When she lifted her head he knew she was better. Smiling gently, he lightly tucked the hair that had fallen into her eyes behind her ear. He watched as she wiped her face and said, “I’m sorry, I’d give you a tissue, but I’m all out.”

Sniffling, she rolled her eyes at him, laughing weakly. “ _I’m_ sorry…we need to be tending to you, and I’m falling apart.”

Letting go of her as she pulled away, he felt a little pang of regret. He pushed it down, giving her a wry smile. “I wouldn’t say that. But yeah, I could use a little TLC, that’s for sure.” Suddenly very aware of his pounding head and just how much it hurt to be sitting up, he leaned back, wincing as he put a hand across his stomach. “An ice pack would be good for starters…unless,” he couldn’t help suggesting, “you’d rather provide a _different_ kind of TLC.”

He had to admit, his proposition didn’t seem nearly as enticing when it came out sounding like a groan. But she laughed anyway (and there was only a trace of tears in it), shaking her head as she reached for the ice packs. The sound lightened his heart.

He hesitated a moment before he continued more seriously, “and Pepper … please don’t call me sir, or Mr. Stark…at least until we get out of here.” He left the rest of it unspoken. _Because it hurts._ He waited for her to ask why, but she seemed to understand him because she smiled again, just a little, and nodded.

“I think I can manage that.” She put the first ice pack under his head, trying to cushion it somewhat with the rag. The next went on his ribs.

Tony returned her smile, wanting desperately to reassure her, but his thoughts were shifting back to the news she’d given him. _The codes. They have the codes._ His heart began to race; he tried not to let it show. Pepper didn’t need to feel any worse; it was his fault she was involved in this to begin with. She’d been through enough.

He didn’t want to think of what they could do with that information, but he couldn’t help it. _God help us. People are going to die, and it’s my fault._ Taking a deep breath, he tried to distance himself from that for now. He’d have to deal with it later. Right now, everything hurt. Worse, he knew in a few hours he’d _really_ be feeling it. Sean definitely hadn’t pulled his punches. If things had been grim before, they were downright bleak now.

He looked at his assistant, turned away from him for the moment as she rooted through the supply box. She couldn’t see his expression, and it was probably just as well.

_Pepper, I’m scared. I don’t know if we’re going to make it out of here._

*** * ***

Max ignored the look that busy-body Sally gave him as he sat down at his desk. Soon to be ex-desk. Hopefully, this would be the last time he’d ever have to see the inside of this hated office.

Attempting to look busy, Max straightened some files and made a phone call. The office was humming along as usual, nothing seemingly amiss. But word had gotten around at the water cooler; Stark and his assistant hadn’t made their appointments this morning. Some people speculated with knowing smiles what the two of them might be doing. Others were concerned, but panic hadn’t set in yet. Max had overheard someone asking if they should call the authorities. It wouldn’t be long now.

Finally that bitch Sally went away. Now he could really get to work.

A few minutes later he hooked up a flash drive to his computer. Max smiled at the message that appeared on the screen.

_Access granted.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Realizations**

Max reached for the volume, turning up the radio as he fought the early evening traffic on his way back to the warehouse.

The DJ’s voice was tinny in the cab of the vehicle, objective and matter-of-fact as it delivered the hourly news.

_“Today, officials at Stark Industries have acknowledged the discovery of a security breach at its facilities. A lockdown was imposed shortly after three p.m., however, it is rumored that vital information had already been accessed._

_Additionally, our source, under condition of anonymity, has informed us that Billionaire Industrialist Tony Stark and his assistant, Ms. Virginia Potts, are suspected missing._

_Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts were last seen on Friday morning at the latest meeting in the month-long “Energy Summit” - a series of roundtable discussions on renewable energy, reviewing Stark Industries’ recent revolutionary, industry-changing and potentially world-changing contributions in this area._

_Our source believes that the former weapons manufacturer and his assistant have been the victims of foul play. Stay tuned to this station for more as it unfolds.”_

Reaching down, Max turned the radio off. He was out of time.

*** * ***

“Son of a _bitch_!”

The bottle shattered, scattering green bits of glass and amber liquid across the wall. Sean stood up, twisting and grabbing the chair he was sitting on. It followed the bottle, slamming against the wall. No shatter this time, just a satisfying crack as two of its legs snapped. It landed in a heap on the floor, not far from where Stark’s van was parked.

Max had gone beyond pissing him off last night. Sean saw the man’s face in front of him again, screaming at him. Thought he was such a big man, huh? The urge to smash his boss in the face had been nearly overpowering. Yeah, that would feel _so_ good. But this one job was paying more than Sean had netted all last year.

Sneering and tilting his head as he stretched his neck, the pop of vertebrae sounded in his ears. Muscles ached from the workout he’d had, but it was a good ache. He thought about Stark, passed out on the floor and smiled. Now that had been worth the effort. The only regret was having to stop. He wouldn’t have _killed_ him. Probably. He’d just wanted to put a fine point on the lesson. It didn’t matter. The rich bastard wouldn’t be looking so pretty in a few hours when the bruises really set in.

Frankly, Sean couldn’t have cared less that Max had other reasons for what they’d done. Putting the ‘pressure’ on Stark had been the most fun he’d had in a long time. And now that her boss was softened up, that pretty little assistant of Stark’s could do a little ‘assisting’ for him. She had soft skin. And those eyes. Yes, he was looking forward to having a little fun with her next.

Walking over to the chair, Sean leaned over and grabbed another beer from the open case. He opened it and took a swallow, a vicious smile twisting the scar that ran over his face. He didn’t have to go back to work just yet. He had time to finish a few more beers and add some detail to what he planned for the uppity Ms. Potts.

While Sean’s depraved mind vindictively switched to anticipation of his next encounter with the lovely assistant, the brooding thoughts of Tony Stark had never left her. Of course, Tony couldn’t hear the crash of glass, or Sean’s swearing. The dark-haired captive was leaning once again against the wall, down a long hallway and several rooms away from the drinking kidnapper.  
**  
** Thoughts dark, Tony still hadn’t slept. Idly, he wondered how long it had been. Muscles were aching and tightening up as the bruises from Sean’s work patterned themselves across his torso. At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was alone again and the gloomy silence of the empty room mirrored his mood.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked up at the voice. Andy, returning from taking Pepper back to her cell, was standing in the doorway. Tony hadn’t heard the door. A small part of him frowned at that, but he was just so tired.

“What do you want?” Completely exhausted and in increasing pain, Tony couldn’t help the bitterness and anger that bled through his voice.

“Brought some food, man. Thought you might be hungry.” Was that regret in Andy’s voice?

Tony’s stomach growled, but he didn’t raise his hand to take the offered bag. Instead, he said, “What about Ms. Potts?”

“I got her some too…gave it to her already. Doubt she’ll eat much o’any of it, though. She ain’t been eating much.” The man sounded frustrated. Gesturing with the bag, he said, “Take it, Mr. Stark.” Tony took it and Andy backed up, sitting down next to the door.

Absently setting the bag on the floor, Tony asked, “Was she … how is she?” He hated hearing the hesitancy in his voice. Tony knew she was all right, of course. He’d just seen her. But that wasn’t what he was asking. He wasn’t sure what he was asking. He couldn’t explain the feelings that prompted the question, but things were not looking so good, not feeling so good. Things were pretty damn bleak, actually. And well, he just needed to know how she was doing. _And why wouldn’t you worry about Pepper? She’s your employee…it’s well known she’s worked with you for a long time._ The thoughtful look on Andy’s face was enough to tell him that the man wondered about the question as well, but there was no way to take it back now, even if he wanted to.

“She’s doing as okay as she can, man. It’s a bad deal, all around.” Yes, definitely regret, there. It occurred to Tony that of the three men he’d seen, Andy was the only one who’d shown him any kind of respect or decent regard. He was also the only one that Tony would have asked that question. _Hmm._

Andy apparently intended to hang around. He had a beer in his hand. He took a swig.

“Right.” The smells coming from the bag tickled Tony’s nose, coaxing him out of his funk. He couldn’t ignore his growling stomach any longer. Burger. Fries. A bottle of water. He dug in, wincing slightly at the sting to his lacerated mouth from the food. “Thanks.” Taking a pull off the water, he swished the lingering taste of blood away.

Andy sat not saying anything while Tony ate. Finally, as if hearing the echo of Tony’s thoughts, Andy asked, “how long she been with you?” There was curiosity behind the casual question – curiosity, and another question. One that Tony had been dealing with for years and irritating though it was, it was also amusing that even a kidnapper should wonder about the gossip he’d probably seen on TV about the relationship between he and Ms. Potts.

Not seeing any benefit in refusing to give the information, Tony thought about it. _Wow. That long?_ He was about to answer, when habit long-ingrained kicked in. A lifetime in the limelight teaches quickly. _Don’t say too much. Never give away more then you have to – it just gives people more to hurt you with._ So after a moment he settled with, “A long time. Years.” The other question (the unspoken one), well, he never answered that one. Let them wonder.

“Heh. She must know you better than your woman, huh?”

_If I had one._ Tony gave the man an ironic smile. “Yeah. You might say that.”

They lapsed into silence again as Tony finished his burger and took another drink of water. He wiped his hands on the napkins and hoped he wouldn’t be sick later from the greasy food. With stomach sated, Tony found himself feeling marginally better, and thoughtful. What was up with Andy? Bad guy, or not? Should Tony test him, or not?

Quietly, Tony asked, “Your boss get what he wanted, Andy?” Tony watched the other man’s face, looking for a sign. _Whose side are you on, Andy?_

“I…” Andy looked down. “Sorry Mr. Stark, you’ll have to check with him on that.”

“I would if he’d talk to me. Two times he’s come by and said nothing both times.” He gave a short laugh. “Our last ‘chat’ wasn’t informative at all.”

Shaking his head, he saw that Andy didn’t care for the turn in conversation. The man across from him had set his beer down and his eyes were tight, upset. “Yeah. I was off-duty, then.”

Tony filed that bit of information away. _Interesting. Did that mean that it had only been the two of them there last night, Sean and Max? Or was someone else involved that hadn’t made an appearance yet?_

Leaning back, Tony pushed out a breath. It hurt. Scenes from the last two days kept flashing through his mind, and it was too much. “Man, you don’t seem all that happy with this situation. You do this kind of work a lot, Andy?” He mentally winced as he said it – he might have gone too far, but pain was making him careless.

Andy looked startled at the question, then angry. Shaking his head, he said, “you don’t understand, Mr. Stark.” Frustration lined his face. “You ain’t got no idea what its like to have to do shit you don’t want to because you need the money.”

More calmly then he felt, Tony replied, “no, I don’t suppose I have.” He looked down. No, he didn’t know what that was like. Not for money. Tony just had to do “shit” he didn’t want to under the threat of torture and a painful death. (And now, his mind helpfully supplied, under a threat to Pepper. _Pepper_.) Fear for her surged with that thought, as the muscles in his stomach clenched and threatened the food that sat there like a brick. The emotion that followed nearly obliterated the shreds of his civility, but he bit back the retort, and tamped down the fury that was alarmingly close to the surface. He wasn’t trying to make an enemy, he was trying to see if he might have an ally.

Under control again, he looked up at Andy then, only to see the man looking back. A flash of … shame(?) crossed the other man’s features. Tony suspected that Andy had seen something in that quick look, something Tony hadn’t meant to give away. _Damnit, I’m the one who’s supposed to be getting information here._

Quickly, Andy stood up, taking his beer bottle with him. He stepped over to Tony and collected the bag of trash, frowning in thought. As Andy took the bag he stopped, glancing at the box of depleted first aid supplies. “I’ll bring more ice for you.” Finally, he paused as he turned to leave, one hand on the door.

Looking down, he hesitated before saying quietly, “I know this ain’t none of my business, but … you should tell her how you feel, Mr. Stark.”

Then Andy left, and the latch clicked behind him.

Exhaling, Tony shook his head. Ayep. Apparently, with one look, Andy’s suspicions had been confirmed. It was pretty bad when a kidnapping thug could see it. _Note to self: don’t play poker after being kidnapped, sleep-deprived and beaten senseless. You’d lose a fortune._

On the tail of that sarcastic little remark, a quiet little voice inside spoke up. The same quiet little voice that had remained stubbornly silent … through years of working together, through Afghanistan, through Obie’s betrayal and even through the heart-stopping moment he glimpsed - not sure he was going to make it to her in time - the Iron Monger’s Gatling-gun aimed at her terrified blue eyes.

Now, though, tired and sore as he was, when he couldn’t resist what it asked, the question came - _When even a kidnapping thug could see what, exactly?_

Looking around the room, Tony avoided the thought. The silence was deafening. He listened to the sound of his breathing, the muted hum of the generator in his chest. And at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice.

It wasn’t just her voice that he wanted.

Pepper was more to him than he’d ever admitted. He needed her, desperately. He’d always needed her...looked to her for her approval when he did right. For her forgiveness when he did wrong. For comfort and support. He’d sought her gaze to share secret jokes (often at others’ expense), and for the crinkle at the edge of her eyes when she teased him. But it was more than that, and in the gloom of the still silent air around him he could finally see it.

_Stop right there, Tony. You can’t…_ No, no, no. _We work together._ Achingly, he knew that was all she wanted. The phantom outline of her hand against his chest was a recent, painful reminder.

_Don’t push it. You’ll lose her._

His stomach pitched at the thought. Pepper was always there. Always. During the week, often on weekends, in the mornings and all too often late at night. Running his hands over his face, he groaned. Memories of late nights came up to greet him - of the two of them working hard into the evening. Memories of Pepper leaning over him, brushing against him when he needed another pair of hands, or when she was finishing up paperwork and needed his input. Memories too, of his conscious efforts to avoid thinking of his assistant in _that_ way.

But here…those memories (both old and recent) of the scent of lavender and the heat of her skin, so so close, drew a response that frightened him. Protectively, to mute the surge of emotion, that little voice in his head quipped, ‘ _of course, hot steamy sex would be a much better year-end bonus. A win-win situation if there ever was one.’_ He smiled at his standard-issue naughty little joke, but then instead of stopping (as they normally would, or so he’d swear in a court of law), his thoughts went there, _really_ went there, and he closed his eyes on the idea of what Pepper would look like … _head back, sweat glistening on her skin, eyes closed and gasping…._

Oops. A line crossed, there, without a doubt. And suddenly, Tony couldn’t breathe. Because the feelings tied to those images were….

His eyes snapped open.

_I love her._

Abruptly clear for the first time since waking up in that dusty grime-covered room, Tony opened his eyes and looked, really looked around the room. His eyes fell on the box of first-aid supplies. He glanced at the filthy bathroom, lit by a single bulb that only served to highlight the crust on the walls.

He wasn’t tied up anymore. And now, thanks ironically to his kidnapper’s malicious games, he had something to work with.

*** * ***

Lost in his thoughts, Sean was startled when the metal door began to slide up. He hadn’t heard the car drive up. It must be the ‘boss’. Disgusted, he quickly ducked behind Stark’s van. He didn’t want to see that idiot right now. He’d come here to have a few beers…he wasn’t on duty for another hour and no matter how much he was gettin’ paid, he wasn’t being paid overtime.

Max pulled the warehouse door up and hurriedly brought the car inside, parking it next to the white van. He closed the door, not immediately noticing the shattered bottle, still oozing liquid and the broken chair in the corner of the room. He was preoccupied. The radio had just finished its hourly news report, and it wasn’t what he’d expected. Listening, his hand had unconsciously reached into his coat pocket, feeling the flash drive safely hidden there.

News had gotten out. Already. Someone had panicked, or got the whiff of money. Anonymous sources weren’t exactly official, so obviously the ‘leak’ was for profit.

Yet another wrench in the works.

His timetable was officially shorter now. How much, he wasn’t sure. After he got things going here, he should go back to his apartment. Pick up the last of what he needed to disappear forever. It wouldn’t be long before…

His cell phone rang.

“Yeah.”

“You’re out of time.”

“Yes, well, I have the information now. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh, we’re not worried. We’ll get what we want. The question is, will you.”

Alarmed, Max blurted out, “I’d better. That was the agreement. This has been way too painful for you to end up stiffing me.” There was silence on the other end of the line. Suddenly more self-conscious, Max nervously continued, “I’ve got everything you’ve asked for. I copied all of the files from Sector 16, and all the weapons data. I’ve got the energy information. And I have Stark. I can deliver him and the information on schedule.” He was babbling. He shut up.

“Fine. As long as you’ve got it all, you live. And you’ll get paid, as agreed. Our man is in the country now. Everything will be in place in the next 48 hours. You have that long to see that you have everything and to make delivery.” There was the click of the disconnect and Max was alone again. 48 hours. That was a lot sooner than he expected. But it might be better…now that news was out. Snapping his cell closed, he headed to the monitor room.

48 hours until Max could retire to the sweet life. Now, though, it was time to relieve Andy.

Walking briskly, Max crossed the room to the far wall, unlocked the door there and passed through it. The door closed quietly behind him.

At the click of the latch, Sean stepped out from behind the van, his eyes following the path his boss had taken.

*** * ***

“What the hell happened last night?”

Max entered the room and focused on Andy, frowning at the man’s tone. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Not ready to let it go, Andy continued, “When I have to clean up the mess it’s my worry.”

“You’re not being paid to bitch, Andy.” Peering into the monitors in front of Andy, Max frowned. “You’ll deal with whatever I…what’s that box doing in Stark’s room?”

“First aid supplies.” Andy replied darkly. “What did you expect me to do? Let him bleed all over the place?”

“What’s in it?”

Bristling at the obvious displeasure in Max’s voice, Andy followed his gaze to the screen. “First aid supplies,” he repeated, more slowly. “Gauze, water, ice, antiseptic. No guns, razorblades or lasers,” he elaborated, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice. “Besides, neither one of them was in any condition to do much of anything after what you put them through.”

Max looked up, glaring, clearly beyond irritated now. Andy decided he’d better leave well enough alone, or he’d get kicked off the job. Like the work or not, he still needed the money.

At that moment Sean showed up, saving Andy from having to deal with the hole he was digging himself into. He walked over to the row of monitors, heading straight to Ms. Pott’s. He ran his fingers over the tiny black-and-white image of her, curled up on the ugly cot by the wall. Andy noted Sean’s expression then – it was filled with something ugly. His stomach did an uneasy turn. Stark’s warning from the day before echoed in his ear. _“Keep that animal away from her.”_  
  
“Sean. I have this watch, man. You aren’t due back on duty for a while.”

Sean glanced at him, then over to Max, a sneer ghosting across his face before disappearing. “Yeah. Thought I’d come in a little early, see if the boss needed any more help with the captives.” Andy didn’t care for the emphasis the man put on the word “help”.

If Max had heard anything odd in Sean’s voice or comments, it didn’t show. He also was looking at Ms. Pott’s monitor, apparently lost in thought. Andy’s feelings of unease increased.

Max looked up at the mention of ‘help with the captives’. He responded, “Yeah. Give me about half an hour. I’ll need you to back me up when I go in to see Stark again.”

Sean snorted. “Like he can give you any trouble now _._ He’s really got you pissin’ in your pants, doesn’t he … _boss_?”

Max looked at him sharply, but ignored the jibe. “Half-an-hour, Sean. I have some work to do, and I’ll see you back here.” Turning on his heel Max stalked into the hallway and let the door swing shut behind him.

Sean turned back to the monitors and sat in one of the now two empty chairs in the office. “Can you believe that guy?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s totally in over his head. He’s got no idea what the hell he’s doing. All I know is he’d better pay up when this is all over.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Andy grunted, and took a seat himself. He felt increasingly uncomfortable. _What prompted that? If it’s true, that’s not good news._ This job was going into the toilet. Bailing on it altogether was looking really appealing at this point – the sense that this was going to end badly for _everyone_ was growing fast, and Andy’d learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. Bailing, though, would be dangerous. So Andy said nothing, kept his thoughts to himself, and took another swig of his beer.

Speaking into the silence, Sean leaned towards him and continued, “that Ms. Potts reminds me of a girl I knew a long time ago. She was a snotty bitch too.”

Andy could smell the beer on his breath, and the leer on the other mans’ face made him uneasy. Andy really didn’t feel like talking. He didn’t respond.

Leaning back, Sean rested his head against the back of the chair. The man was clearly not anywhere near sober. He was muttering under his breath and Andy could barely make out what he was saying. “Yeah. I knew a girl like her….Jenny…Williams…” His voice dropped even lower, “….she tried to tell me no, too…but I took care of her.”

A chill ran through Andy, and it took real effort to stay calmly seated in his chair. Because he clearly remembered the headlines this past summer. Sean said ‘Jenny’. As in Jennifer? And was that last name Williams? As in “Jennifer Williams”…. that had been found fucking _murdered_ in the trunk of her car, two towns over?? They’d never caught the killer.

Andy took a deep breath. Well that clinched it - he couldn’t bail now, even though all of his instincts were screaming for him to do exactly that. Because Sean had just compared Ms. Potts to Jenny Williams. And not in a nice way.

And based on what little Andy knew about the bastard and the way alarm bells were clanging around in the back of his head, it was very likely that Sean was the killer that had never been caught.

_What the hell am I going to do now?_

*** * ***

An hour later, half-an-hour after the end of his shift, Andy still didn’t know what to do. Sean had dozed off, and even in sleep, the man looked like an animal. Unshaved and unkempt, it seemed like the guy hadn’t showered in days. Andy had turned his chair somewhat, so he didn’t have to have him in his direct line of sight as he thought about what to do with his suspicions. Lost in thought, he wasn’t paying any attention to the screens in front of him. He didn’t notice when the monitor showing Stark’s cell got considerably darker.

Just about then, the door creaked open.

Max looked in, saying distractedly, “okay, Sean….”

“He’s asleep, man.”

“What?! And what the hell are you still doing here? Your shift was up a while ago.” Andy wasn’t someone who usually paid much attention to people’s moods, but it had been an intense morning. He could hear strain in the voice, and there were lines of worry in his boss’s face. Max’s eyes were darting around like he was about to flip out.

“Yeah. Well. Sean fell asleep, and I didn’t think you’d be too happy if I just split.”

Max, half in, half out of the room, seemed to think about this, and the frown across his face deepened. “Just as well. Sean’d probably make things worse. I need you to come with me to keep Stark in line.”

Something in his tone unsettled Andy, but he got up and, taking the messenger bag Max handed him, followed his boss into the hallway.

The two made their way silently to Mr. Stark’s cell, and Max stepped back as Andy unlocked the bolt. The heavy door swung open, and light fell onto the empty cot on the far wall.

As Andy’s eyes noted the unusual darkness in the room, Max’s voice barked out, sharply, alarm creeping in on the edges. “Where is he!?”

“Keep your pants on.” The voice, casual and unhurried, came from the left of the room. Stark stepped out of the bathroom. It was nearly pitch in there, barely illuminated from the bulb in the main room, and before Andy could ask, the industrialist said, “you shouldn’t buy such cheap lightbulbs. You know CFLs last a lot longer, and they’ll save you hundreds on your light bill.”

“Shut up.” Max’s voice had lost its panicked edge, and had hardened with hatred. “I told you I’d need you to do some things for me.”

A cautious look appeared on Stark’s face. “Yeah. I remember. Thought you’d thrown out that idea after you had your fun during your last visit.”

Holding up a flash drive, Max said, “I need you to take a look at the data here. It’s missing some information.” He gestured to Andy, who stepped forward and gave him the messenger bag. “There’s a laptop in here. With all the software you’ll need – fill in the blanks, Stark, or you’ll regret it.”

Andy saw the muscles on Stark’s jaw tick. Saw the deep breath. He braced, preparing for trouble, and half thought about starting some himself. After the last 24 hours, he wasn’t sure what side he was on anymore.

But Stark didn’t appear threatening…Andy had the distinct impression of a mask carefully in place. Silently, Stark reached out and took the messenger bag, set up the computer, booted it up, and accessed the drive. It took a few minutes, and then, “what do you mean, info’s missing,” a bitter note to his voice. “It looks like you have everything you need.”  
  
That sounded bad. _What is on that drive?_  
  
“Bullshit, and you know it.” Making an impatient gesture, Max bit out, “Yeah, I got the weapons. All the weapons.” The relish in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

Andy’s eyes widened. _All the weapons? Oh my God._

Max continued, “but that isn’t everything…the armor schematics aren’t complete. I may not be your top scientist, Mr. Stark, but I sure as hell know that pile of metal won’t move without a power source.” As Max blurted out, _“your top scientist,”_ Andy saw something flash across Stark’s features, so quickly he might have imagined it.

Apparently recovering from whatever realization he might have had, Stark said calmly, “the plans for the arc reactor are there. It has more than enough power to do the job.”

“Stop fucking with me, Stark! Those schematics won’t work! Those plans are for the factory’s reactor, not some mini-arc reactor! Do you think I’m an idiot!? The plans I have are … too…damn…big!” Max had lost all appearance of control – his face was red, his hands clenched. Andy felt in his gut that this screaming fit was more fear then anger. The sinking feeling that this job was going to hell increased.

In the face of Max’s temper tantrum, Tony Stark said nothing.

Raising a hand and pointing at Stark’s chest, at the glowing light there, Max said, “I know that this, this has something to do with powering the suit.” Angrily, Max took a step closer to Stark, a mistake, in Andy’s estimation. “Use that _genius_ mind and give me the rest of the information, and I need it _yesterday_.” As he screamed, Max’s voice had lurched higher, cracking with emotion. Andy looked over at his boss. The man sounded….unstable. Seriously pissed, and panicky. What was going on with him? Then Max said it. All Andy caught was a quick crazy look in his eyes before Max sneered, “or you can be sure…your little whore will pay.”

_Oh, shit._ Before the echo of the words had faded, Andy moved, quick as the thought registered, between captor and captive. Bracing, he felt the impact in his bones as Stark slammed into him. He managed to hold the man back, noting that even with the beating Stark had, the man obviously didn’t give a shit if it hurt and he was damned strong! Andy was momentarily grateful that Stark only seemed intent on getting to Max – he really didn’t want to think about trying to go toe to toe with the industrialist. From the corner of his eye, he saw Max stumble back, shaken from his rage and obviously taken by surprise. _Dammit, what a moron!_ Urgently, he said, “don’t….don’t, Mr. Stark. Please man, don’t do this.” Max was shouting something, backpedaling faster, falling back to the doorway. _Great way to support your employees, dude._

Stark wasn’t listening, didn’t seem to be hearing him. Andy tried to stay calm. He kept talking. “Max won’t stop until he gets what he wants…just give it to him, Mr. Stark.” There. Something in his voice must have gotten through; marginally, he felt the man in front of him relax. Or maybe Stark was simply too tired and sore to keep it up. Still, he had to say it, he needed Stark to know, “I’ll keep Ms. Potts safe, I swear. Just give him what he needs.”

That was when they heard her scream.


	9. Chapter 9

**Winging it**

Tony’s blood ran cold. Every muscle tensed as his assistant’s scream of pain echoed down the hallway.

“Pepper!” No longer interested in Max, Tony switched direction, grabbing the front of Andy’s shirt and pushing him away - absently feeling the shock of pain from pretty much everywhere. Andy stumbled back, nearly falling as he tried to keep his footing. Tony noted that Andy seemed to be already turning away, distracted and responding to Pepper’s scream.

No such luck with Max. As the sound faded and Tony lunged for the door, he saw Max had stopped his panicked yelling and was moving to cut him off. _No!_ He glanced to the right. Andy was there, also heading for the door.

Tony realized that he could head for the door, try to find Pepper or…. he could reach Max before Andy could stop him. Tony didn’t doubt he would be able to take Max down. This was a chance to get the upper hand. This may be the best chance he’d have. But his mind replayed the sound of pain in Pepper’s voice…and before he consciously made the choice he’d broken into a sprint. The screech of his bruised body scraped at him as he headed for the door to the hallway.

He had to get to Pepper now.

As Tony reached the door, hand outstretched, Andy stepped in front of him. The kidnapper’s gun was drawn and pointed down. “Max! Hurry _up_!” Anxiety etched every line of Andy’s face, but there was no uncertainty there.

Max moved to Andy’s side, his face still red from the apoplectic fit he’d just had. Andy’s gaze was hard as he said, “Mr. Stark, back up. I can’t let you leave this room.” There was warning in his voice.

The gun made him pause…but Tony had no intention of stopping. Ignoring the look that Max gave Andy, Tony spit out, “Get the hell out of my way.” Apparently seeing his resolve, Andy backed quickly through the door – with Max in tow – as he reached out to close it.

“No!” Tony lunged. His mind screamed a warning even as he did it, obviously realizing the danger of threatening two men - one panicked and one with a gun. In slow motion, he saw Max take in the sudden movement … watched the man’s face contort in panic as the terrified man twisted and clutched at the gun in Andy’s hand, yanking it towards Tony. The two men at the door struggled for a breath in time before the gun suddenly went off. Tony saw it coming – could almost feel the ratchet-click of the mechanism as the hammer was pulled back and struck. A sudden cold hit his shoulder, followed seconds later by a shocking pain that exploded outward, stealing all the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees, bracing with one hand as he tried to clear his head, tried to breathe.

“Max, God _dammit_!!” Andy twisted the gun out of the other man’s hand, and with a quick shove pushed his boss further into the hallway. Andy ran back in to Tony.

“Oh shit, Mr. Stark.” He knelt down. “Let me see.” Quickly, Andy examined the wound. The bullet had struck Tony’s left shoulder. It was bleeding badly, but from what Tony could tell, Andy seemed more upset then worried. “Shit,” the kidnapper said again, and grabbing at the first aid box, he pressed rags against the wound. “Hold these here, _tight_ , Mr. Stark. I have to go see what’s happened to Ms. Potts.”

His shoulder started to throb, and red was flashing behind his eyes. He moved as if to stand, but Andy’s hand on his other shoulder pushed him down. Mouth tightly closed, Tony shook his head. _Fuck, no._  
_  
_ “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s vision was going gray around the edges. He heard Andy curse under his breath and then say quickly, urgently, and with an almost pleading note to his voice, “I’ll keep my promise, Mr. Stark, I swear. But you have to stay here.” Not waiting for a response, Andy took another quick glance at the red stain spreading across the rag pressed to Tony’s shoulder, stood up and sprinted for the door.  
_  
_ The door shut, the lock slid home. One bare minute after Pepper’s scream and the sound of a gunshot, Tony was left alone in the near darkened cell.

*** * ***

Pepper had dozed off finally, curled on her side facing the wall, but that was all too short-lived. Her eyes snapped open at the sound of the lock on the door. Self-preservation made her want to look over, see who it was, but she knew it must be Andy to pick up the trash from the food she had left mostly uneaten.

She was tired and angry, and the bruises and scrapes from Moreau hurt. And her chest ached. It had hurt to leave Tony again, bruised and beaten, to come here and be alone with her thoughts. So she stayed the way she was, brooding, and tried to drop back to sleep.

She had a second’s warning that it wasn’t Andy, as a quick shuffling that didn’t sound like Andy’s step at all snapped her eyes open. Before she could react, rough hands grabbed her - one on her arm, bruising, the other in her hair, brutally pulling her back. Eyes tearing, she tried to get her feet under her, scrambling to get to her feet.

“Hello pretty.” Sean’s voice was rough in her ears and came with the powerful whiff of alcohol. Pepper tried to stay calm as she felt her heart stutter, going from groggy to shockingly hyper-aware. By then the stinking kidnapper was pressed up against her back.

A nightmare realized.

_Sean._ Drunk. He was going to hurt her, and her heart, after its brief stutter, was pounding in her chest. She had to keep her head. Reaching up, she grabbed the hand that had her hair, holding it tight to her head. She wouldn’t be able to think if he kept yanking at it. She couldn’t do anything about the hand on her arm, and lacking leverage, she did the only thing she could think of – and pulling her arm out as much as she could, she cranked her elbow into his stomach. She hit something solid; the shock went up her arm. Bone…his sternum? He cursed violently as his breath went out in a woosh. She followed that up by stomping on his foot, praying desperately that the heels of her tennis shoes would do some damage. _I’d kill for my Jimmy Choo’s! Please let me break something!_ But he still had her hair, and her stomp did nothing but piss him off. She felt something building in the man behind her and knew it was coming a second before it happened. Sean’s hand tightened painfully on her arm right before he wrenched her hair back viciously, his stream of curses burning in her ears. The pain was excruciating. She screamed.

Rather than deter him, her scream seemed to galvanize him. He fell silent, and her heart leapt to her throat. Instinctively, she knew things had just gone from bad to worse. He let go of her hair, cruelly twisting her arm as he turned her around. He backed her up against the wall. Her arm was beginning to go numb where he held her. She had to get him to let go.

Sean was either disregarding her entirely, expecting he could easily overpower any attempt at escape (and based on the these last few moments he wouldn’t be far off), or was so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t bother to secure her other arm. Her struggling was getting her nowhere; so she reached over, pulling on his hand, trying to grab a finger - to twist it, to yank it back, anything, find some weak point to break free. No luck there either; his hand was like a vise. He was mumbling something; she couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t sound good. And he was now so unbearably close she could smell the stink of sweat and beer on him. Disgusted, Pepper couldn’t help but wonder if the man ever bathed. Drunk or not, his intention hadn’t changed. He started chuckling as, with his free hand he grabbed at her blouse - she heard the thin cloth tear. _No, no, no._ From the corner of her eye, she had a glimpse of grimy teeth as he grinned.

It was then without warning that the sound of a gunshot blasted through the room. The sound - jerking Sean’s attention away from her and overloading Pepper’s ears - made her gasp. Pepper seized the opportunity without thinking, reaching out and clawing him across the face. He let out a grunt as he let her go, his hands going to his face. “You bitch!”

He stumbled back, but Pepper’s triumph turned sour when she glimpsed his face. Three ugly red marks showed the result of her desperate attempt to protect herself, creating a madly skewed “x” on his face where they crossed the existing scar. There was no reason left in his expression now, and she didn’t imagine there’d been much to begin with. He was still blocking the doorway; she had no way out. She looked around frantically for a weapon, any weapon.

“Sean!” Moreau ran into the room, face red and wild-eyed. Sean’s head snapped around and Pepper would swear he growled. Taking advantage of the distraction, she backed away, putting as much space between her and the two men as possible.

Sean rushed Moreau, and Pepper honestly thought the man was going to kill his boss. He threw a punch into Moreau’s midsection and another to his jaw. And as quickly as that, Moreau dropped with a thump just inside the doorway.

Prodding Moreau’s unconscious form, Sean quickly felt through the man’s pockets before pulling out his wallet and cell phone. His actions seemed very focused; it surprised Pepper. Apparently, Sean hadn’t been as insensibly drunk as she’d thought.

Stunned at the quick turn of events, it had just dawned on Pepper to try to push past Sean while he was preoccupied. That was about the time he remembered she was still there.

Smiling nastily, he stood up and walked towards her. “Now, where were we?”

“Sean.”

Pepper looked up. Andy stood just inside the door, gun pulled and pointed. Angrily, he took in the unconscious form of their boss, and Pepper’s condition. “What the hell are you doing?” He took a step further into the room, nodding towards the left, told Sean, “Back away.”

The other man complied, slowly. Pepper hoped Andy saw the murderous look on Sean’s face. But Andy’s attention had shifted to Pepper. “Ms. Potts. Did he hurt you? Are you okay?” And before Pepper could do or say anything, Sean was charging across the room at Andy.

“Look out!” Later, Pepper would wonder why she said anything at all. Andy was one of the bad guys. Andy had kidnapped her, chloroformed her.

Andy turned quickly, but not in time to stop Sean, who was apparently only planning on escape. Putting his shoulder into Andy’s right side, he pushed out into the hallway and disappeared. Pepper heard his footsteps fade and a door clang in the distance.

Seemingly as shocked as Pepper at this turn of events, Andy stood silently a moment before he spat out, “what the hell.” He was obviously surprised and frustrated, and seemed to be trying to decide whether to follow the other man or not.

Watching Andy hesitate as he stood at the doorway, Pepper saw him step into the hallway and quickly considered doing a “Sean” and trying her chance at escape. Just as quickly, she dismissed it. Even if she managed to get past him (and his gun) and find her way out, she couldn’t leave Tony. It was moot a breath later, when Andy returned. But still, her mind noted the direction Sean had fled, and how long it had taken before she’d heard that distant door slam.

Looking unhappy, Andy took a look at Moreau’s crumpled form and stepped over to check him. Pepper saw him roll his eyes as he gave a snort of disgust. Standing up, Andy moved quickly over to her. “Ms. Potts.” He grimaced, and Pepper felt her stomach drop at the tone of his voice. “The gun went off. Mr. Stark’s been shot.”

“…What?”

She remembered now. The distraction, the gunshot, that unexpected opportunity in her struggle with Sean. She felt cold. At that moment, Tony had been shot. _Please… no._ “What are you saying? Andy, what are you saying?” She heard the hysteria rising in her voice. Andy shook his head and she took it for the worst.

“Ms. Potts!” Andy was still shaking his head. “He’s all right. But I need you to come with me. I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t lose any more blood, and Max is out cold.” He muttered something under his breath that she didn’t catch, but he was looking angrier by the second. Angry at Max, the situation, or her, Pepper wasn’t sure – didn’t care.

Tony was alive… “all right” as Andy put it. But in what condition now? How could he take any more after everything else he’d been through?

Andy heaved a deep breath, and said, “Look, I don’t want ‘a tie you up. Just don’t pull nothing, okay?” His voice harsh, he continued, “I don’t want any more crap right now, and if you want to help your boss, you’ll come quietly or,” he added darkly, “he just might bleed to death.”

Fearfully, silently, she nodded. Turning quickly, Andy stalked out into the hallway. Nearly running, it only took a moment to reach the now familiar door with the new lock. Pepper’s stomach churned. Opening the door, Andy reached back and guided her into the room.

She wasn’t sure what to expect; nightmare images had flashed through her mind as they’d rushed down the hallway. Andy spoke as soon as they stepped inside. “Mr. Stark?” Pepper nearly cried when her eyes adjusted to the light in the room and she could see that Tony was awake, aware, and watching them come in, worry and pain etched on his face.

Kneeling next to him, her eyes were immediately drawn to the rag he held tightly to his shoulder. “Tony, oh my God. What…” Again her voice was rising, hysteria creeping in around the edges, though she was desperately trying to stay calm.

He shook his head, frowning. “Are you okay?” She could hear the effort in his voice.

“Yes, yes…I’m fine.” She felt a flash of annoyance that he was worried about her. Couldn’t he see she was fine? She completely ignored that she was avoiding all thought of what she’d just been through. _Can’t he see I’m fine?_ Even as she tried to push the thought away, in a small place in the back of her mind she told herself she was being unfair; of course he was going to worry. And looking into his face a moment later, the last of her annoyance melted when she saw some of the strain leave his features at her response.

Andy, hands full, interrupted at this point - asking her to step back. At Tony’s nod, the kidnapper began cleaning the wound. Stomach churning, Pepper could see that the bullet had gone completely through the muscle. Looking around in the dim room, she looked for the telltale bullet-sized hole in the wall, but it was just too dark.

She bet it hurt like hell, particularly after he’d been through the last few days. But other than his stressed breathing and the tension in his body, Tony gave no other outward sign of how poorly or ‘okay’ he was doing. Inwardly, Pepper sighed. _Men_. Andy produced some pills and said at Tony’s question, “vicodin.” Pepper didn’t bother asking where Andy had gotten them.

“Mr. Stark.” Andy’s voice startled her. She looked back at the two men. “I aint a medic. The best I can do is help you keep pressure on it. Get it clean and bandaged. It really needs stitches.”

Assisting Andy, it was quick work for the two of them to get the site cleaned, wrapped and a sling done up for her boss’ arm. Pepper was more practiced at emergency first aid than Andy might think, after helping Tony on other occasions...but this kind of injury was new for her. Pepper realized anew how much the suit protected Tony on his frequent outings - she’d never had to deal with more than bad bruises, contusions and cuts/lacerations of varying severity from the inner workings of the suit (often due to dents from blunt impact).

The two were mostly silent; Pepper knew from Andy’s dark expression and curt requests that much as she wanted to, now would not be a good time to be asking, “what happened?” Besides, it might be better to not have the details. Her mind was already whirling with anger and fear after the assault from Sean, and now this. She blinked quickly to keep the tears from starting again, angry at herself for not being able to keep it together.

When Andy turned away, putting away the remains of the gauze and other supplies, Pepper stood up, hesitating. Anxious and fearful, she knew she couldn’t go back to that other room. Over and over in her mind she felt herself being pulled to her feet, hair feeling torn at the roots and feet scrambling. No, no, no. She looked at her boss, pale and tired looking, but his eyes were clear. She realized he was watching her, and she knew instantly that intent expression meant he’d seen her distress _._

“Andy.” The other man turned at the tone of Tony’s voice. Tony may be exhausted and sore, but Pepper recognized that voice. That was the voice he used when an employee was in trouble; not anger exactly, but it was a tone that wouldn’t be denied. And Andy reacted to it? Pepper wondered what had happened between the two men.

At Andy’s look, Tony continued, “give us a few minutes, will you?” Andy hesitated, looking like he wanted to deny the request; but under the other man’s steady gaze he faltered. Pepper noted the kidnapper’s hesitation. Clearly, the balance of power had shifted. She wondered if it had ever truly been in question.

Obviously attempting to salvage the situation, Andy said sharply, “make it quick. She’s gotta get back to her room.” Andy left then, stepping out into the hallway.

At Tony’s nod, Pepper sat down near him on the mattress. They were sitting face to face now and her boss was looking at her. Pepper’s heart sped up. She knew that look – she could see, quick as ever, the gears whirring, assessing, judging. It surprised her. _Her_ mind felt fuzzy with the wear of adrenaline, stress and fatigue pushing in on the edges. It was amazing that he wasn’t in worse shape after just being shot.

He must have read the thought. “It hurts like hell, but the vicodin’s starting to kick in. I can almost say I prefer it over this all-body bruise, believe it or not.”

Pausing, seemingly at a loss for words, he finally said, “Pepper. You screamed.” His eyes were on her blouse. She glanced down, suddenly aware of the tear there, seeing the edge of her bra peeking through, the strap shockingly white against her skin. Self-consciously, she pulled at the material, somehow managing to pull it together near her collar. She knew it was fruitless, the shirt was ruined; there was no way it was going to stay.

“Pepper…” Tony said her name again, and she heard the question there, dimly recognized the emotion under it. Fear. He was afraid for her. She needed to reassure him. But Pepper couldn’t bring herself to talk about it. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball, somewhere clean, warm and safe. And go to sleep.

So she said the only thing she could. “I’m fine, Tony.” He shifted closer to her, his eyes searching hers. She heard his breathing … agitated, and so different from how calm it had been a moment before when they were dealing with his injury.

“I’m fine,” she said again. _Please don’t push me on this._ “Please.” He reached over and took her hand, his fingers warm and strong.

She could feel his eyes on her as he pulled her closer. He put his arm around her with his injured arm trapped between them. Sighing, his voice was soft in her ear as he murmured, “okay, Pepper. Okay.” She put her head on his shoulder, faintly smelling the tattered remains of his cologne. His answer surprised her, actually. Tony usually didn’t stop when he wanted the answer to a question. She’d seen him work at a problem for days, obsessively. After Obadiah, she’d seen him in the boardroom, stepping up as leader and working exhaustively to fix the PR mess that Stane had left. No, he wasn’t one to leave a question unanswered. So she could appreciate how much it took him to let it go (for now), and felt the almost physical effort it cost him not to press her on it.

But she also sensed he had something else on his mind.

It was a moment later when his voice came again, quietly. “Pepper. Still with me? We only have a few minutes before Andy comes back.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, knowing he’d feel it, and not feeling much like speaking.

“Good.” She felt his shoulder tense under her cheek, and his voice was urgent as he asked, “do you still have the earbud for the com?”

Before her mind fully registered the question, before she could wonder why he asked, she gasped - her hand automatically trying to reach for the tiny piece of equipment she normally wore in her right ear. His hand caught hers, stilling it. It wasn’t there anymore, hadn’t been for some time.

He groaned softly. “Gone?”

“Yes.” She whispered. The tiny device was so light - she could and had at times worn it for hours without feeling the need to remove it. It was so small people could hardly see it. Despair pulled at her. It must have fallen out when they’d been taken. “It could be anywhere.” Even not knowing why he wanted it, she knew the loss of the earbud communicator must be catastrophic. He wouldn’t have asked for it, otherwise.

Confirming her guess, he hissed through his teeth. “Shit.” Then remained silent, thinking. Finally, apparently determining something, he nodded to himself. She felt more than saw that he was keeping a tight eye on the doorway. “Have you been in the same room the whole time?”

“Yes….I think so….at least since I woke up.” She pulled back, wanting to look him in the face. Guessing already where this was going.

He saw she was following him and gave a small smile. “Okay, then we have a chance. Pep, I need to you to try to find it. Get it, hide it. Bring it back, when they bring you back to me.”

“But…” Pepper tried not to panic, but this whole situation was just getting worse, going downhill. Pepper remembered the scene in her cell with Sean, looked at the rough blood-stained bandage on her boss … the pattern of bruises across his chest. The walls were closing in on her. _What if I can’t find it? What if they catch me looking for it? What if they don’t bring me back here?_

Again, it seemed he followed where her thoughts were going. He shook his head, wincing as his shoulder jarred with the movement. “Ah! Damn that hurts.” He grimaced, closing his eyes a moment, breathing. Reaching out, he gently turned her face up so he could meet her eyes. “Pepper, stay with me. We can do this. Trust me.” Under the words, Pepper heard uncertainty. It made her heart trip … what did that mean? Was something worse coming? Caught up in her thoughts, she almost didn’t hear him ask, “you can still trust me, right?”

She looked up in surprise. She nodded.

“Yes … of course I trust you.” At those words, something relaxed in the man beside her.

She just didn’t see how a tiny communicator designed to speak with currently dead and dismantled armor could do anything at all to help them. Dimly, she heard the scuff of Andy’s shoes as he approached from the hallway. A heavy feeling settled in her chest. _Time’s up._  
  
She looked back up, into Tony’s face, hoping to find some reassurance there. What she saw was Tony’s eyes, dark and unreadable, pulling her in. She didn’t realize how close they’d gotten until softly, his lips met hers. He pulled back just slightly, eyes meeting hers again. Then he laid another soft kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes. “Find it, Pepper,” he whispered, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it. “Don’t worry, they’ll bring you back to me.”

She barely felt it as Andy pulled her gently to her feet. “Come on, Ms. Potts. I have to get you back to your room.”

She glanced back into the room as they stepped into the hallway. Tony was watching them, his expression thoughtful in the near darkened room.

What did he have planned? _“Find it, hide it. Bring it back.”_  
  
Pepper could still feel his lips on hers. She could still smell his cologne. His words echoed in her mind, making her heart ache.

_“You can still trust me, right?”_

*** * ***

Those words were still spinning around her head, confusing and worrying her, when Andy’s footsteps finally stopped in front of the door to her room. She looked in, her eyes taking in the aftermath. The mattress had been shifted away from the wall. She didn’t remember that happening – it must have been when she’d scratched Sean. Moreau was still out cold and sprawled on the floor. Other than that the room was virtually unchanged. She didn’t know how to take that, since those moments were some of the most terrifying of her life. Pepper’s gaze landed on the kidnapper’s leader, his face darkening with the bruise from Sean’s punch. Pepper took a good amount of satisfaction from that. She had to resist the nearly overpowering urge to kick him. __  
  
She was saved having to put a lot of effort into it; Andy walked over to the unconscious man and started shaking him. “Boss. Max. Wake up, man.”

Turning away from them, Pepper stepped further into the room. Her eyes scanned the floor. And as she’d dreaded, but for the grime the ground was bare. _Where is it?_ She had no sense of when the communicator might have dropped. It was probably in the parking lot where they’d been taken. Her heart sank. She couldn’t help it; her lips began to tremble and she blinked her eyes madly to clear the tears. She didn’t want any more attention right now.

Maybe Tony could still do whatever it was he was planning without it. _And maybe I’ll find a gun in my back pocket._ Her chest tightened and she tried not to give in to sucking despair. She had to sit. Give herself a moment to calm down. She looked up – Andy was having some success waking his kidnapper boss. Max was stirring. She glanced up at the camera. Was someone there now, in that room with the monitors? Watching her? She had no idea. No idea how many were between her and Tony and freedom; no idea how they could escape without the little communicator Tony had asked for. Or how they could have escaped even if she _had_ found it.

She just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

Finally, Max got to his feet. Pepper was careful not to watch too closely – the guy would undoubtedly be embarrassed and she had no desire to deal with a psycho’s bruised ego. And she definitely didn’t want him to see her distress. Hopefully, he’d just go away.

And that’s exactly what they did. She heard low agitated tones, as they spoke quietly, then the door closed. Pepper didn’t look up. After the latch of the lock, she stood up, intending to straighten the mattress…she’d definitely be sleeping with her back to the wall from now on. As she put her hands on the rough edge of the grungy thing, she gasped.

There it was. A tiny bit of metal and plastic, sitting in the dust and nestled up tight against the wall where the mattress had been, before Sean’s attack. Pepper’s hair had fallen in her face as she had leaned forward to push the mattress, and it was a good thing because she couldn’t help the big smile that lit her features. Careful not to move too suddenly (you never know who’s watching), she adjusted the mattress so it was directly next to the earbud, still slightly away from the wall. She lay down again, facing it, heart pounding. Casually, she rested her hand on the mattress and let it slip down into the crack, and it was no work at all to pull the precious bit of tech back up, grasping it tightly against her chest. Now. Where to put it?

Well, it was obvious where she should hide it. She glanced down carefully, slipping the little piece of equipment into her bra. Smiling, she rolled her eyes. She could already imagine what Tony would say about that. Wistfully, she thought, ‘ _It’s a shame it’s not one of the lacy ones.’_


	10. Chapter 10

**It comes together**

Drinking shakily from a bottle of water, Max tried to dismiss the panic growing in his stomach. Half an hour ago, he’d woken up in Virginia’s cell, Andy hovering over him. Head pounding, jaw hurting like it was dislocated. His prisoner had been cowering on her mattress and Sean nowhere to be seen. Now, back in his office, Max stared trancelike at the laptop in front of him, a purplish-black bruise forming on his jaw. He laughed - not noticing the near hysteria in it - as the mental image of Stark getting himself shot chittered across his thoughts. All-in-all, he’d rather have stayed unconscious.

The room was still rocking. He’d been feeling unsteady since waking up. Max hadn’t ever been hit like that before. Like the room, his thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning. Setting the bottle down, he had to snatch at it to keep it from tipping over.

The soft-white light from the screen of his laptop reflected highlights in the bottled water. Sourly, he briefly considered putting his fist through the screen – at least he wouldn’t have to look at the uncompromising streams of numbers, the electrical diagrams and schematics. This pressure he felt building in his head was due to more than getting slammed in the face.

That voice, that voice that always laughed at him…he could hear it chuckle in the dark shadows of his mind. He remembered the first day he’d heard it. The day he’d met Virginia Potts. The moment he’d seen her he knew. She had to be his. Then, moments later, Stark had stepped out of the conference room. Max had been speaking with her, and he still remembered how her eyes sparkled when she chuckled at something funny he’d said. But the moment _he_ stepped up, _Stark_ , Virginia had stopped speaking. In the middle of a sentence. She’d pulled her beautiful eyes away to look at _him._ As his gaze had hatefully tracked the billionaire, Max remembered the voice, speaking suddenly in his thoughts. ‘ _You’re a fool. Virginia will never love you. She wants him. Stark.’_ It was then Max truly knew hate.  
_  
_ Now, staring at the screen, Max realized that voice might be right. Slyly, it whispered to him. _‘After all this, she still wants him.’_ He shook his head, his features twisted. No. How can she? He’s been taken from his pretty things, his money. He’s powerless now. _And soon he’ll be gone. She’s mine. She’s always been mine._ The voice was silent.  
_  
_ The buyer’s ‘man’ was going to be calling sometime tomorrow, wanting to know when and where they could set up the delivery. At that thought, the voice spoke up. _They’re going to kill you. They’ll take her away._

Max didn’t have what he needed. He couldn’t make the delivery. The information downloaded from the computers at Stark Industries wasn’t complete. This was not paranoia or suspicion. He knew. He knew, because his job at the former weapons manufacturing facility was all about tracking systems. Something had twigged when he’d glanced over the Jericho’s plans.

Following the hunch, a quick review of the tracking system on the Jericho’s schematics showed gaps. Where there should have been references to another diagram, or the charts indicating which formulas to use for the chemical components, there were only dead ends. Heart pounding, he’d done a more thorough review - cross-referencing information from several of the weapons plans he’d stolen…it was the same story. _It doesn’t make sense. I got everything, I’m sure of it._

The only explanation possible was that the diagrams/schematics had been removed. On purpose? _Of course it was on purpose. He’s smarter than you are. He’ll always get what he wants. He’s better looking. Richer. Virginia will never be yours._

“Shut up!” he snarled.  
_  
_ He shook the thoughts away, pushed the voice back to the darkness. He took a deep breath and ignored the panicky feeling that was making him want to scream. It was just the pressure. The stress. Yes. He’d be fine when this was over. When he and Virginia were away from all of this, in their new life together.

Stark Industries had stopped manufacturing the weapons a while ago - maybe it was poor archiving, or a clerical mistake. _It was on purpose._ He knew now that information was missing. Of course, enough of it remained to do light-years of improvement for his client. And it might take them a while to realize that information was missing…at least it would give him enough time to get far, far away. To disappear.

But. The diagrams for the armor’s power source were entirely missing, showing only a label - “Mark V”. Since the armor was their primary goal, they were sure to notice that immediately. The armor was a pile of scrap without a power source.

Max looked in the monitor showing Anthony Stark. _He’s smarter than you are._ The glow in the center of the man’s chest didn’t show up in its usual hue in the black and white screen and the light was muted from the sling that partially blocked it. It was mind-blowing, seeing that thing in his captive’s chest. Max would have to be blind to not notice that the hole for the power source in the armor’s diagram perfectly matched the humming blue/white radiance in the center of his captive’s chest. If he had to guess? No, not a coincidence.

It looked like Stark was sleeping. _Rip it out. Kill him. You’ll have the power source and he’ll be dead. Classic two birds with one stone scenario._ Unconsciously responding to the disturbing whisper, he shook his head. Not yet. He still needed him.

He ground his teeth in frustration. Max had known he’d have to tap Stark to tighten the information up. Maybe clarify some things, connect the dots, so-to-speak. He’d known that. But this. This was a nightmare. And how in the hell was he going to get all of that from Stark now? He looked again Stark leaning against the wall, arm wrapped and in the sling.

Virginia’s screen showed her in the room, on her mattress. Max took a deep breath. She was so perfect. She was curled up, facing the wall. It looked like she was sleeping too. She hadn’t said anything when he’d left the room earlier. She must still be mad. Well, she’d come around eventually. Once she was far away from Stark. _With me._

Well, Stark would be out of the picture soon. One way or another. And Virginia, the money and the life he deserved would finally be his. After some rest, Max would talk to Stark. Get him to give him the missing information, quickly. Then this would all be over. A day and a half. Just a little bit longer.

*** * ***

It was hours after she’d hidden the device and curled up on the dirty mattress. Pepper didn’t know how many. She’d slept some, finally, and felt less like she was going to fall apart at any moment. Of course, the quiet couldn’t last.

The clang of the door echoed in the hall as Pepper quick-stepped beside an obviously furious Max. Andy followed behind them, apparently insurance against Pepper’s possible escape. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Pepper was being dragged along, scrambling to keep up with the kidnapper. Her arm hurt where Max’s hand gripped her, and her wrists rubbed painfully against the cable restraining them as he jerked her along. But the pain was background noise in her mind and so didn’t really bother her; she could see the door to Tony’s room. Her heart sped up.

Max must have noticed the sudden quickening of her step. He looked over, took one glance at her expression and his face twisted. He abruptly yanked her to a stop - shoving her up against the wall near the door to Tony’s cell. Pepper’s surprise and shock of at the impact was immediately followed by frustrated anger. Getting thrown around was _beyond_ old. From the corner of her eye she saw Andy stop too, viewing this physical exchange with a stormy expression.

“Enjoy this little _visit_ while you can,” Max snarled, his voice so low and distorted with fury that she could barely understand him. “Less than two days – Stark will be gone, this will be over ... and it’ll be just the two of us.” It wasn’t just what he said it was how he said it. Pepper now knew with chilling certainty what she had already suspected….that besides being a coward and a criminal, Max was _not right._

She hadn’t thought things could get worse.

The blood drained from her face as she realized that her life may never return to what it was. The idea of a life with this _madman_ was suddenly, horribly, real _._ She saw it spread out in front of her suddenly. A life completely different (and likely short-lived). But what made her ache the most wasn’t so much what she would go through…it was what she would have to live without. _Tony_. Her stomach rolled and she turned her face away.

A heartbeat later and smiling nastily, Max pulled away. He threw open the door to the cell, viciously pushing her into the small room. She heard a shout of protest from Andy as she stumbled, her eyes on the floor as her feet desperately worked to catch up to her momentum. With her hands behind her back she wouldn’t be able to break her fall - her heart hammered as she braced for the pain of slamming her face against the floor.

Then Tony was there, one arm still in the sling as he threw the other around her, his body bracing to stop her fall. She stumbled up against him, and she heard his soft grunt of pain at the jarring impact. “Easy. I’ve got you.” She looked up at the murmured words, but he wasn’t looking at her. She caught the line of his jaw, rough with stubble, as he looked over her shoulder. The arm around her felt like steel. The body beneath it, tense. Her boss was furious.

_No._ Afraid of what he might do and not wanting to risk being taken back to the other room, not wanting to risk Max or Andy somehow figuring out she had the tiny bit of equipment, she tried to calm the man in front of her. “I’m okay, really.” An interminable moment passed and she thought he hadn’t heard her. He finally looked at her; she gave him a small smile as she thought desperately, ‘ _I’m okay…please don’t risk this. Please.’_ Some of what she was trying to convey must have made it through. She saw the effort he made to relax and felt the muscles in his arm loosen.

She was so focused on Tony that when Andy put a hand on her arm to steady her she jumped. The kidnapper had walked in after her - pulling out a pair of scissors to cut the cable on her wrists. Tony’s gaze never left the other man, the muscles in his jaw clenching and releasing. In a breath it was done, and her shoulders complained (again) as she stretched them to ease the ache, her fingers unconsciously rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She turned around to see Andy stepping back, sheer frustration and some other emotion warring on his face. He retreated nearly to the door beside Max.

It was then that Max, evidently needing to assert his authority, said, “Remember what I said, Stark…I’ll be watching.” When Tony didn’t appear intimidated by his melodramatic statement, he grimaced and turning, he stalked after Andy out into the hall. The door slammed shut with a ringing clang, followed by the sound of the lock sliding home.

Pepper ran her hands over her face and took several slow breaths. She looked up to see dark eyes watching her.

“He sure as Hell ain’t no Snidely Whiplash.” Tony’s voice was rough, and quieter than usual, although she could hear he was attempting to keep his tone light.

Pepper went with it, knowing they desperately needed it. “It’s the mustache…” Taking a deep breath, she finished somewhat shakily, “he doesn’t have the mustache.”

A small quick shake of his head.

She tried again. “He needs remedial villain school.”

Tony gave a half-hearted chuckle, finishing quietly, “obviously.” It wasn’t working. Looking at him, she could see his thoughts had already moved on.

Face unreadable, he edged closer, infringing on her space. “Pepper…” His fingers came up to play with the frayed edges of the tear in her blouse, ghosting lightly over the bared skin there…goosebumps shivered down her arm. She could only guess at his thoughts. Cringing, she realized that her refusal to talk about the assault by Sean probably had led to any number of horrifying speculations. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Tony didn’t appear to notice. He wouldn’t look at her, his eyes focused on the torn cloth in his fingers. She could see the anguish on his features. _He’s blaming himself for this._ The weight of it was so heavy she felt it pulling at her, a horrible tightness in her chest.

“Tony?” She closed her fingers over his hand, more to stop him from tormenting himself than because she didn’t want him to touch her. Just the opposite. The need to have him just hold her was becoming unbearable - she just didn’t know how to take that step. In fact, it scared the hell out of her. And if she did? If she forgot he was her boss, forgot years of dancing the line between professionalism and flirting? What would he think if they ever got out of this nightmare? She already knew the answer. He’d think it had been the fear, the situation. He’d think it wasn’t real. That possibility hurt a lot more than she thought it would.

The thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant as she looked at the muscles clenching in his jaw, eyes turned away and avoiding her.

Wanting to stop his pain, she said the only thing she could think of. “I’m okay…” It sounded false even to her ears. She corrected herself, with a small desperate laugh. “Well, maybe not, but I’ll be okay.” That, she could almost believe. “Really.”

He stopped moving and she thought for a second that her reassurance had worked. It didn’t last long. Closing his eyes and taking a deep angry breath, he was quiet again for a moment before saying in a strangled whisper, “this is my fault, my arrogance, my mistakes. You’re paying for them.” He looked up then, caught her eyes with his. “You always pay for them.” His eyes were red. Pulling his hand back, he turned away.

The self-hatred and desolation in his voice was too much to bear. She moved around him to look into his face. He wouldn’t look at her until she put her hands on his chest. She could feel him shaking, could feel him trying to pull it all back in, cover it up. But the playboy veneer was months gone, and his determined, passionate crusader persona had been shaken to the core. She realized that even if they got out of this, he might not survive it.

He didn’t say anything as she gazed into his pain-filled eyes. Thoughts flew through her mind about the burdens he’d taken on - paying for what he considered his family’s mistakes, blaming himself for doing what any ‘good’ son would do and following in his father’s footsteps – becoming a weapons designer, rationalizing it as a good cause to save American soldiers (that was true enough), but at the center of it, he had done it really just to please his father. Then, after his father’s death…mopping up Obadiah’s mess single-handedly. And then, the crusade. Putting himself in danger weekly, daily, to save others from ‘his mistakes’.

God, he made her crazy. She shook her head. “Tony,” she said softly. “Don’t do this to yourself. You don’t deserve it.” The storm clouds in his eyes didn’t fade. He didn’t believe her, and she could see she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Maybe not ever, and certainly not now.

Taking a different tack, she stepped in even closer to him. She could feel the warmth radiating from him. Vaguely and with a little thrill, she felt his hands come up to rest uncertainly on her hips. Flicking a quick glance over his shoulder at the camera, Pepper slipped her fingers into her blouse. He raised his eyebrows as she felt her face heat and her heartbeat quicken. Yeah, that was a little provocative, she could admit that. And maybe she enjoyed doing that a little more than she should have. That didn’t stop her from shooting him a warning look, though. She carefully brought out the tiny piece of equipment and slid it into his palm. His eyes widened. Giving him a devious self-satisfied look, she said sotto-voice, “Now, get us out of here.”

He curled his fingers around what she’d given him. Looking into his eyes, she saw the storm clouds fade and he let out a short, breathy laugh. Pepper smiled, hoping he didn’t realize how much that laugh of his affected her. Glancing down as she self-consciously readjusted her blouse, she sensed more than felt it when he lowered his head to murmur in her ear, “I can help you with that, if you like.” Yeah, apparently he _had_ noticed. Her heart was tripping in her chest. But she was determined to keep the lightened-mood-momentum going _(he was feeling better, damn it)_ , so she laughed and looked up, rolling her eyes at him.

“Don’t you _wish_.” That apparently caught him off-guard, and he didn’t try to hide his reaction to it. _Oh._ The room suddenly felt very warm. _If I’m going to be that provocative, I suppose I should have expected that._ Biting her lower lip, she smiled nervously and stepped back.

Tony was silent for a moment as she fought to regain her composure. For her benefit or his, she wasn’t sure, but the silence was really loud.

Finally, he cleared his throat. Doing her the favor of not pursuing her comment, he smiled, took a deep breath and said, “All right, we’re in business.”

“Mmm.” Taking a deep breath herself and blowing it out again, Pepper pushed away her nervousness. “Yes, business. Can I ask,” she said as she sat down on the mattress. There was a laptop lying there. She raised her eyebrows. “What exactly is it we’re supposed to be doing?”

Her boss smiled enigmatically. “Apparently Max thinks the plans he downloaded are incomplete.”

“Oh.” Pepper felt her eyebrows go up. Then she frowned. “Are they?”

“Yes.” And she heard the satisfaction there, mixed with anger – was it because the kidnapper discovered it?

Dark hair shifting as he busied himself with the laptop, Tony continued, “After the Obie fiasco, I took a page from Leonardo.” He looked up. The welcome notes of the operating system sounded.

At Pepper’s bewildered look, he elaborated. “I don’t include everything in my designs anymore.” She absently watched as he used the touchpad and clicked, moved a finger across it and clicked again. A light bulb went off in her head - she recalled hearing somewhere that Leonardo DaVinci often left crucial aspects out of his plans to protect his interests. The DaVinci version of copyright protection.

“And,” he continued, “I _may_ have taken bits out of what was in the archives. I mean, I _streamlined_ the documentation. You know, simplified it.” Pepper heard the sarcasm in his voice. She remembered the fight Tony had gone through with the board of directors when he’d shut down the weapons division. After Obadiah, he’d been rightfully concerned about the possibility of theft and unauthorized use. So he’d purged the company’s archive – he’d only removed the weapons’ plans since they weren’t going to be producing them any longer - preferring to keep critical (read: incredibly deadly) information with Jarvis. The board had found out, insisted the information was the property of the company and had to be returned. It had gotten ugly and in the end he’d returned it. Pepper had thought he’d been satisfied with the security measures the board had put in place at his insistence. Apparently, he’d taken some additional measures on his own as well. Thank God.

Tony was speaking again. “What Max gained access to is missing miniaturization equations for the reactor, manufacturing requirements, and chemical ratios for the more …explosive aspects. There might be a few missing schematics, as well.” Tony frowned, looking darkly at the laptop and continued, “Our host has _persuaded_ me to give him the missing information.”

His mouth twisted as he continued mockingly, “and he’ll be _watching_ , so I’d better not try any funny business with the computer.”

Pepper was only partially listening, as an ugly idea had begun to surface. “So I held out for _nothing_?! You were tortured for nothing?” Pepper’s voice rose, her chest constricting at the pain they’d both suffered for the pass codes.

Quickly Tony looked at her and something in his gaze stopped her. “Pepper, don’t second guess any of this. You were right to protect those codes.” he said softly, “Never question your actions…I don’t.”

As she digested that, she saw his gaze drop back to the computer and he continued, “No…you were right to protect the codes. I couldn’t make what I was leaving out of the plans blatantly obvious, if anyone had looked, it would have caused problems. There’s still enough information there to do massive damage…just not maximum damage.” He frowned, his eyes haunted. “We can’t let this happen, Pep.”

She let that sink in and tried not to let her worry show. She forced herself to calm down and resisted casting a nervous glance at the camera above her head. “Okay. Do we have a plan?”

“Mayyybe.” He picked up the laptop and handed it to her. There were two programs opened…one had a schematic on it. She recognized the prototype Ironman suit Obie had stolen. The other program showed a partially typed document, with a small toolbar along the right side of the screen. It had about a bazillion scientific symbols to choose from, and was obviously the document she would be working in. She stared in horror at the blinking cursor sitting there. She didn’t know what her expression conveyed, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Ready?”

Irritated, Pepper’s brow creased. “You do realize that since Jarvis came online I haven’t had to take dictation? And my regular fare of everyday business letters is a far cry from…” she gestured anxiously at the screen in front of her, “ _this_.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, but Max knows I can’t type or work the laptop effectively with my arm this way.” He indicated the sling. “Why do you think he was so angry when they brought you back here?”

_Ah. Of course._

“And we only have maybe a day to give them everything else they need.” He nodded to the machine. She noticed the text he’d already entered.

_‘We just need to keep busy until everything is ready. It may feel useless, but we need to buy some time. And please don’t forget to erase this part before the idiot sees it.’_  
_  
_ Giving her boss a wry look, she slowly tapped the backspace key until the words were gone. He grinned. “Ready?” She nodded. Then he started talking, tech and scientific jargon mingling, and numbers streaming until her head spun. _If we get out of here, I’ll never take Jarvis for granted again._

***** * *

Andy wasn’t sure exactly when he decided that he didn’t care about the money he was supposed to be getting for this job. Maybe it started when he found out Max had Stark beaten or when he threatened Ms. Potts during his talk with Stark. Or maybe it was when he felt that twisting in his gut when Ms. Potts gave her boss that look when Andy had separated them.

More likely it was when he found out that Stark wasn’t going to be released after the ransom. There wasn’t even going to be a “ransom”.

Of course, Andy was the last to know. Max had finally given the entire game plan away after Sean had knocked him for a loop. When the two remaining kidnappers had been making their way back to the office, Andy had caught his boss’ panicked and near incoherent mumbling. The former scientist was selling Stark to terrorists. _Terrorists_. Crazy people who blew things up….who blew people up for crazy reasons.

Kidnapping, assault. Selling people to terrorists. Yeah. Andy was pretty sure that selling people to terrorists was a ‘go to jail without passing go and then throw the key away’ kind of crime. And Sean. Out there, crazy as hell, he didn’t really like Andy or _any_ of them all that much, and Andy was 99.9% certain the man was a murderer.

This was bad. As in BAD.

Andy was in so far over his head, he couldn’t see the sky anymore. Shit. What a moron. How could he have been so gullible? He should have known it was going to be bad when he found out Stark was the mark….hellooo. Former weapons manufacturer. Stark Industries wasn’t known for selling baby bottles.

Screw the money. He had to find a way out of this mess.

And where was Sean, anyway? He’d taken off a several hours ago. Andy just knew that any moment he’d look into one of the camera monitors and see Sean’s ugly mug staring back. Then what?

*** * ***

Hours passed quickly. When Pepper began asking him ‘um, sorry, can you say that again?’ more than once in the space of minutes, Tony suggested they stop.

“No, no…I’m sorry. We need to keep going.” She gave him a meaningful look. He could almost tell what she was thinking - ‘ _You said we have to look busy…what if they come to take me back? What if they search us?’_. If he was bad at poker, Pepper was worse…those meaningful looks were going to get them in trouble.

Raising his voice slightly, in case they _were_ listening, he said meaningfully but gently _,_ “Pep, if we’re beyond exhausted, we’ll make mistakes. And mistakes in _these_ equations means explosions when you don’t want them. Right?”

She nodded her head, apparently understanding what he was trying to do. “…Right. Okay, I agree that would be bad. But you need the rest more than I do, you said you haven’t gotten any real sleep.” Her protest was weak though, and she was moving to lay the laptop down. _That_ told Tony just how exhausted she was. He was fairly certain that Pepper had her own version of the 10 commandments that included: “ _Thou shalt not cave-in to Tony”._

Of course, the equations were completely besides the point; Max and his crew would never get anything from the busywork. It just had to look good, because Tony needed the bad guys to leave them alone for another dozen or so hours.

And he needed Pepper as rested as possible when that happened.

After laying down the computer, Pepper hadn’t moved. She wanted him to rest too, he knew. “I’ll sleep in a bit,” he lied. She obviously didn’t believe him and the lie earned him a mulish look; her blue eyes were glittering and skeptical, her lips twisting sourly. It was endearing and frustrating at the same time. _How could I have not really seen before how beautiful she is?_ “Pepper, please.” His voice caught, letting him know how drained he really was. How close his emotions were to the surface. “I need to know you’ve at least gotten some rest.”

The lovely Ms. Potts wasn’t just a pretty face. She hadn’t been at his right hand for so long because she missed things. She knew him well, and she paused, gauging how much to push him. He could almost see the calculator in her head telling her the probability of winning this argument. When the scale tipped in his favor, he knew it. Her lips curved in grudging acceptance and she nodded. Finally, she edged to the far end of the mattress and leaned her head back against the wall, turning a little to get more comfortable. Tony looked at the pointedly empty expanse of mattress, obviously left so he could rest as well, and how uncomfortable his assistant looked as a result of it.

Exasperated he said, “Use the mattress, Pepper. Lay down. You’ll get more rest that way.”

She gave him a look that said, _‘I’ll sleep how I want to sleep.’_ Then she closed her eyes, and even though she’d mentioned she’d gotten some sleep just a few hours before, she was out in moments, her head dipping down and hair falling further into her face.

He sighed. _And she complains that I’m stubborn._ After a few minutes, when it was apparent that she was really asleep, he got up painfully from where he’d been sitting on the other edge of the mattress. Walking over to her, he looked at her sleeping features. She looked so much younger, more fragile somehow. Tony slowly eased her down on the horrid old bumpy mattress. At least she might sleep a bit better lying down. It said something for how exhausted she was that she didn’t wake up, even when he moved her. He felt a warm flutter in his chest - he guessed that she wouldn’t have slept so heavily if he hadn’t been with her. It wouldn’t matter how well she slept if he couldn’t make this escape happen. Unable to help himself, he sat down near her head and ran his hand over her hair, brushing it out of her face.

He wasn’t a fool - Max had no intention of letting him live and it was clear the man’s plans for Pepper were even worse. Their earlier ‘talk’ had made that painfully obvious.

_“You took information out.” Max’s voice was shrill and the accusing tone was heightened by the spots of red in his cheeks. Apparently, their captor was upset._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Yes you do.” The words were hissed, expression furious. “You’ll give me that information, or…”_

_Dripping irony, Tony replied, “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”_

_The apoplectic look on the kidnapper’s face had been gratifying. Smiling darkly, Tony had watched the man’s mouth open and close a few times._

_“Or…” and then the bastard almost smiled. “You’ll never see Virginia again. You’ll never know what happened to her, or what I do to her.” Voice viciously sharp, he continued, “and she’ll know that everything that happens to her is because. Of. You.” Tony didn’t even remember moving. Again Andy seemed to know before Tony what he was going to do. Before captive could make contact with captor the brown-haired kidnapper was between them. Tony’s various injuries screamed at the impact; and spots swimming in his vision, even as he heard Andy murmur, “Mr. Stark. Please. Cooperate with him.” The request startled him. He gave the young man before him a dark look, and Andy said again, “Mr. Stark.” And Tony heard the ‘please’ in the words. He pushed off of the shoulders braced against him, shoving back to a more acceptable distance._

_He took a moment to breathe, trying to calm down, feeling that unbearable tension in his jaw and shoulders. Finally he threw a glare at Max and ground out, “What do you want, then?”_

_Max smiled and produced a small laptop he’d had in the hallway behind him._

Rubbing a hand over his face, Tony pushed the memory away. Max knew that there was no way Tony could reproduce the missing information in the time available. Tony could sense the man’s desperation; if he had to guess? The idiot just wanted something to fill in the blanks for whoever he was working for. Whoever he intended to sell the information to. It didn’t take a genius to know that the guy was in way over his head and hoped to avoid being killed. None of that mattered though.

This whole useless laptop exercise suited Tony. He needed the time to be left alone. And now he was with Pepper, where he could keep an eye on her. Tony ignored the ache in his chest and tried to stay calm. Throbbing pain was everywhere (the Vicodin really wasn’t doing much but taking the nasty edge off). Aching, heavy eyes stared at the ceiling, desperate to just … close.

Just for a little while.

_Not now._ Besides, the few times he’d dozed off he’d dreamt, and it wasn’t pleasant. Afghanistan. Torture and pain – emotional and physical. Memories that were now ‘new and improved’, with Sean’s ugly face mixed in - old hurts and new each bleeding into the other. Also newly improved and scattered throughout…Pepper screaming. _No, no thanks. Who needs sleep anyhow?_  
  
He pushed off of the wall grimacing, and headed into the bathroom. The tiny room was still dark. Apparently building maintenance wasn’t in the kidnapper’s handbook. In some ways, a good thing.

He waited a moment as his eyes adjusted to the shadows. Wincing at the awkward weight and the pain it caused his shoulder, Tony pulled the cover off the back of the toilet and set it to the side. Now, the interior revealed most of the typical plumbing you’d find in any toilet. Of course, the flushing mechanism no longer worked – sacrificed to the greater good, and there were a few tiny pieces of metal, serving as makeshift tools waiting for something to work on. Most notable was the small container salvaged from a bit of delicately blown glass precariously perched and holding a precious cargo. He smiled grimly. Precious and destructive. He was pretty sure Edison never intended the glass shell of a light bulb to be used for this purpose.

He turned his head away to keep from breathing the fumes, blinking away the irritation they caused. The dim light from the bulb in the main room cast a weak and inadequate light on phase one of his ‘project’. Oh so carefully, he picked up and tilted the fragile makeshift container, allowing its contents to nearly rim the broken edge of the glass bulb. _Not thick enough._ It needed more time to set before he could add in the last component. Carefully, quietly, he re-covered their chance at freedom, the clink of porcelain muted in the small room. Yes. Looking pretty good, but that small container couldn’t do it alone – ultimately, for his plan to work he had to make the modifications to the tiny earpiece Pepper had found. Such a small thing. Such a big part of the plan.

Tony longed to salvage parts from the laptop, it would make things so much easier – simple to pull non-essential items from the antiquated thing and still have it run. But carrying the laptop into the bathroom for a long time would be too obvious (somehow, he didn’t think that ‘reading material’ would fly), and there wasn’t a large enough area of main room uncovered by the camera.

Too much of this was out of his control. That helpless hateful ache reamed him. _Keep breathing._ He closed his eyes, forcing back nightmare images trying to rise to the surface, creeping in around the edges of his waking mind. It helped to focus on breathing around that pressure in his chest.

Apparently he didn’t have to be asleep to torment himself. It was becoming inescapably obvious that the fatigue and emotional drain were taking a real toll.

The first part of the plan, not a problem. A little chemistry, a little cooking, a big kaboom. The second piece of his plan skirted uncomfortably close to torture, and the idea alone made his stomach lurch and roll. He hated himself for even considering it. But he had to get them out, and unfortunately he couldn’t be sure his bathroom experiment would get them clear. And this was really his only option – the only way to weaponize a painfully limited and utilitarian device. To say he had minimal resources was ridiculously understating it. In Afghanistan, he had free reign to use deadly (and complex) weapons for scrap. Still difficult for sure, but it had been a snap comparatively. Here, he was trying to make an escape with what amounted to a paperclip and a wad of spit.

He huffed a breath. The brew needed time to steep for strength - wasn’t going to be ready for a while. Hopefully, it would be ready in time, since Tony now knew they didn’t have much left. He reached down and picked up his makeshift tools. Time to see if they worked. Shaking a few drops of water from them, he dried them as well as he could on his jeans. Water and electronics didn’t exactly mix. Setting them down to dry completely, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little communicator Pepper had brought him. Thankfully, it wouldn’t take too much to modify it since he really didn’t have the tools to do anything truly intricate anyway. As it was, it was going to be a bitch to use the makeshift tools, no real table all the while working in the musty darkness of the bathroom. And do it quickly, correctly and bank on it working with no real way to test it. He sighed.

Twisting now to sit on the closed toilet seat, he hitched a breath as the movement pulled at his hip. The muscles in his side tightened suddenly at the pain, setting off a chorus of complaints from his various bruises, cuts and of course, his shoulder. It washed over him, momentarily pushing all thought from his mind. He sat there, breathing through his teeth, willing his heartbeat to slow and waited for the pounding in his ears to subside. Finally, it did. _Keep going, Tony._ _Quickly, before they notice how long you’ve been in here._

It didn’t take long, it just felt that way. Barely twenty minutes later it was done. He smiled, satisfied. It was hard to believe he could get two uses from the one tiny device. As he’d thought, he was able to boost the signal from the device, and alter the output. He’d removed one of the two miniature batteries and hid it carefully. That battery was critical for ‘phase one’, which should be ready in a few hours. So, if his calculations were correct, then in about five hours, give or take, they’d be ready to move.

Gently, he replaced the lid on the back of the toilet. The next step. Making use of those tools again, he carved needed bits out of his assistant’s shoes. He huffed a laugh. He knew how she loved her shoes, even those as simple and practical as _tennies_. She wouldn’t thank him for this. “It’s for a good cause, Potts,” he muttered under his breath. The most difficult part was keeping them useable. But he managed.

By the time he was done, his shoulder protested, his side ached, and his eyes burned. God, he hurt. And he was so. Tired. Moving into the main room, his eyes fell on his sleeping assistant. She was still on the mattress where he’d left her, lying on her side, her hair spread out around her face.

Sitting down at the top edge of the mattress and not wanting to pull her hair, he carefully brushed it out of the way. Telling himself that he wanted to make sure she knew he was there, he laid a hand on her shoulder. She’d been through so much already and after the way she’d pushed him away, he didn’t want to surprise her. The thought of her not wanting him, of her being _afraid_ of him, knotted in his stomach. _But what about a few hours ago?_ She certainly didn’t seem to be afraid of him. That playful bantering tone, the flush he’d noticed on her cheeks that made his heart speed up….not signs of fear. _And just how do you think she would react if she knew how he really felt?_ He felt the slow, soft rise and fall of her breathing.

He didn’t realize it when his eyes dropped closed.

*** * ***

Sean looked in both directions and behind him as he crossed the street to the local diner. The place was half empty; it was late. The tables were stained with coffee and had one of those ever-present grease smells that you had to wash out of your clothes when you left the place.

Sean had bugged out of Max’s warehouse nearly eight hours ago, and had looked over his shoulder ever since. Max might be a frickin’ wimp, but he was a science geek. Who knew what kinda tech crap that pencil pusher had available?

Shaking his head, Sean kicked himself. He’d lost his temper. But Max was such a moron, and what a bitch, that Potts lady – she really pissed him off. His cheek burned where she’d scratched him. He gritted his teeth. Now, because o’ her, he was out that money. A lot of money. There had to be a way to work this – he hoped he could get something out of Max’s cellphone. He looked around the diner and across the street. It didn’t look like he’d been followed.

Carefully opening the phone, Sean looked through the most recent calls. Long distance, numbers from out of the country, several of them the same number. He grinned.

_Jackpot_.

Selecting the last call, he hit send.

The voice that answered sounded irritated. “Why are you calling? You’re early. Our man is still en route.”

_Paydirt._ This was turning into a good day.  
  
“I’m not early. I’m just in time…and have I got a deal for you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Hope and Desperation**

Pepper was awake. Suddenly. Between one breath and the next, she went from blissfully unaware to grim reality - with the stark realization that she was still a captive.

Her boss sat near her head, slumped awkwardly against the wall. The position looked painful. He muttered again, talking in his sleep. “No.” He shook his head quickly, making a small horrible sound that wrenched at the pit of her stomach. This was no restful sleep. Not at all.

Laying a hand on his arm, she tried to wake him. “Tony.”

He didn’t hear her. “No! Oh God. Don’t…please...” The last of it was nearly a sob.

Moving closer, Pepper leaned over him - shaking him more roughly, still mindful of his injuries. “Tony. Wake. Up.”

This time, he heard her.

His eyes snapped open and in them she caught a glimpse of a desolation so complete it stole the breath from her lungs. Then Tony recognized her; he pulled away, his hands coming up to scrub away the last bit of horror. Pepper sat back.

She waited for her heart to calm before asking. “Bad dream?”

He sighed. “It was nothing.” His tone said to drop it.

She didn’t want to drop it. She wanted to scream. Pepper hated having to dance around this subject, over and over again. “I thought you trusted me.” And she hated the accusation in her voice…hated herself for pulling a guilt trip on him, especially now, but she was too frustrated, tired and battered to filter the first words that came to mind.

He blinked. “Of course I trust you. More than anyone. Ever. I just…” Dark eyes looked at her, distant and pensive.

The images of the dream swirled in his memory as Tony watched Pepper’s patience stretched thin. He couldn’t tell her what the dream was about. What the dreams were always about. Hopelessness. Torture, captivity. Being forced to watch her die. He couldn’t bear to even voice it. “Pepper. Please. Maybe later, after all this.” Seeing her frown deepen, he continued, “I can’t. I just can’t talk about it now.” Ruefully, one corner of his mouth went up. “It’s not you … it’s me.”

He watched those beautiful eyes of hers consider him. Finally, she echoed his sigh. “All right.” Nodding her head grudgingly, she said with a hint of warning, “but don’t think this is over.”

Tony knew she only meant the discussion about his nightmares (which he could admit to himself he’d been dodging for months with her) but couldn’t help but draw a parallel - this whole terrible situation wasn’t over. But it would be soon. His inner clock told him it had likely been a few hours since he’d checked on his little chemistry project.

Quietly, he asked, “So. Are you feeling refreshed?” At her speculative nod, he said quietly, “Good. I need to go over a few things with you.”

*** * ***

Andy could see the captives talking quietly onscreen. He couldn’t make out what they were saying; it was too soft for the camera’s mic to pick up. It was probably about whatever the dark-haired hostage had been dreaming about though, judging from Ms. Potts reaction earlier.

He didn’t think anything of it when Stark went into the bathroom. He saw Ms. Potts begin to start up the laptop again. Things were quiet here – Max was eating next door. Time to take a bathroom break and grab a quick smoke.

Andy was walking back to his station when the explosion hit.

*** * ***

Tony didn’t much care that the toilet was unusable now; he didn’t plan to need it ever again. Crouching in the bathroom with Pepper, he knew they had to hurry – it would undoubtedly be only moments before the bad guys arrived. Angling to shelter her as much as he could with his body, he prayed the bathroom door would protect them. He’d attempted to focus the explosive so the blast would go outward, but some of it would bounce. Physics and all that. And unfortunately, the bathroom door opened in the wrong direction. No help for it.

“Cover your ears, Pepper. This is it.” Finding the wire he needed in the near-darkness, he closed the circuit on his makeshift mod to the tiny circuit board. There was a torrent of sound, a blast of light - the bathroom door shuddered and slammed open. He felt Pepper jump when it blew - he tightened his arms around her, holding on to his assistant and desperately holding onto their ‘ace-in-the-hole’. Then it was over and his ears were ringing faintly, even with the other precautions he’d taken. He grimaced. Right. Well, Tony, it wasn’t like you had your hands free to cover your own ears, now was it? But his hearing didn’t seem too badly impaired. Letting Pepper go, he asked, “Alright?”

She was trembling, but she nodded. His mind flashed back to that night of chaos on the roof with Obie. She’d been through so much with him, because of him. But she kept coming back, every day. It wasn’t just for the paycheck, right?

“Let’s go.”

Taking her hand, he pulled her out into the main room. The outer door was off its hinges, halfway into the hall, the metal twisted…warped. From the starburst pattern in the blackened area on the door, the blast had clearly focused on the lock, but apparently his brew had been stronger than he’d anticipated. The wall on the far side of the hall had a chunk taken out of it and there was a hollow in the floor as well.

A beautiful sight - even if he only saw it as the two of them ran by. He smiled. Damn, I’m good.

He and Pepper had turned right into the hallway – not knowing the layout of the place, they both hoped that heading away from her cell was a good choice.

They’d only been running for moments; Tony was doing his best to ignore the various aches and pains that were screaming at him, when Pepper’s voice cut into his concentration. “Tony, they’re coming!”

They rounded the corner as a shout lit out from behind them. It sounded like Andy. Crap. He’d hoped that Andy might be out somewhere else….sleeping, running an errand, anything. He didn’t want to go up against that guy right now. Or that sadistic bastard Sean for that matter. Max - yeah, okay….he could handle Max. Andy? Sean? Maybe if he hadn’t recently been beaten and then shot. At the moment, his odds against the other two were not so good.

Doors flashed by as they ran. Tony didn’t bother trying any of them along the hallway – they all looked like the rooms he and Pepper had been kept in. He had his eye on the door at the end; it was different – no window and it looked heavier. An outer door? He hoped so. “Come on, Potts. Pick up the pace!”

Moments later, they were at and through the door. Not an outer door, an office. Damnit. When would they catch a break?? But it had two doors, one on each side. And a large metal desk in its center. Tony and Pepper exchanged glances and then they were pushing against the heavy desk to block the door they’d come through. It wouldn’t buy a lot of time, but it would help.

Heart pounding, Pepper tried to catch her breath. She could almost feel the kidnappers getting closer.

“Potts, over here.” Tony was at the other side of the office, examining that door’s knob. Pepper realized she’d heard him rattle the handle earlier; it must be locked. Her stomach sank. She ran over. Tony took one look into her wide anxious blue eyes and gave her a quiet smile. “Don’t worry. We’re almost home.” She hesitated only a moment before she smiled back. He turned back to the door, hand reaching up to give a good pull on the doorknob again. Kneeling there beside him, she could only see his profile, but even then she couldn’t help but notice. The tremor at the end of each rough breath, the careful way he held his arm against his side…and she couldn’t help but notice the speckle of red across the bandages on his shoulder.

The observations came with a horrible twisting in her stomach, but they didn’t have the luxury for her to worry about him now.

“The doorframe is heavy on this one.” Frustration laced his words. “It’s like a security door or something.”

Looking anxiously back the way they came, she asked, “Do you have any more of that exploding stuff?”

One side of his mouth quirked up at her words. “No,” he sighed. “Unfortunately, not.” His eyes flickered around the room. Pepper saw them pause briefly on the single air vent in the ceiling. The air in the room was still and slightly musty. Those dark eyes flashed to the other door, the one Max, Andy and Sean were sure to break through any second.

Mouth a grim line, he asked, “Do you still have the bottle I gave you?” Eyebrows furrowed, Pepper handed over the peroxide bottle he’d given her before the explosion, a remnant of the ravaged first aid box. She didn’t question him on its purpose or if it would work; obviously he’d already run the plan through in his head. “Back up. Try not to breathe the fumes.” He shook the brown plastic bottle quickly; opening the top and turning his face away…he spilled the contents over the doorknob. Pepper watched it splash over the wood and down around the metal base of the knob.

Yeah. Whatever that liquid was, it definitely wasn’t peroxide anymore. Pepper couldn’t identify it, but it was heavier and thicker than peroxide. As soon as it contacted the metal it began to hiss and bubble – the liquid itself changed color, turning a bright blue as the reaction kicked up. The metal looked like it was being etched, but she could see no other effect. It worried her, and she glanced at Tony – but he was watching the reaction. It seemed to be what he was expecting.

Pepper had backed away, but the curling fumes reached her nose anyway, burning her eyes and making her cough. Her boss looked back at her, worried. He pulled her towards the door they’d come in, then, climbing up on the desk he reached up, his fingers slid into the slots in the vent. Ignoring how the ragged edges of the metal strips dug into his hands, he yanked on it until it gave, tossing the cover into the corner. The hole was small, but Pepper could see the fumes curl up into the darkness of the ceiling. “Are you okay?” She coughed again, nodding, blinking at the burn to her eyes. “We’ll be out of here in a snap.” The knob behind them rattled. Then there was an impact; the door shuddered. “Okay,” Tony commented, only his eyes moving to the blocked door and back, “Sounds like a snap won’t be quick enough. Guess we’d better speed this up.”

The other side of the room was hazy now; Pepper’s eyes were tearing from the fumes. She felt light-headed. “Tony,” she gasped. “What is this stuff?”

Worriedly he threw her a look as he jumped down, trotting into the acrid fumes holding a hand over his mouth and nose. His voice floated back to her wryly, noting, “I know I’ve come home smelling worse than this, Pepper.” She couldn’t help a laugh. Yeah. True enough. He twisted to one side to kick a heel directly below the discolored and smoking door knob, grunting with the impact. Pepper thought she saw the metal shift unnaturally, giving just a bit.

She moved toward him. “All kidding aside, how can I help?” Her question ended on a cough. Her boss looked back at her, real worry warring with frustration. Pepper took the bottom edge of her blouse and held it over her mouth, breathing shallowly.

“You can’t. Just hold on…stay out of this crap,” he said, indicating the fumes. Her mouth tightened at his directive – and against the frustrated helplessness she felt, watching as he kicked out at the door again. She knew the effort cost him; she could see the pinch of pain at the corners of his eyes. But even injured he could put more power into getting that door open than she could.

She huffed an aggravated breath, backing up against the far wall as the urge to cough rose again. It dawned then that the steady impact on the door they’d come through had stopped; she hoped against hope that Max and his crew had given up. Trying to divide her attention both forward and backwards, she remained silent, focused intently on the squeak of metal as Tony kicked the door again. The liquid was still doing its work; the air steadily thickened. Fear of how bad it might get pricked at Pepper. She blinked her burning eyes madly and hoped desperately they’d have enough time to get through this door - before they were caught or passed out from the fumes…and that this was the last door they’d have to go through to get to freedom.

Then her ears picked up the sound of keys rattling in the lock behind them. Pepper’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“Tony!”

“I know, I know,” he ground out, kicking the door again. And again. Running her hand over her face, she tried to see through the burning tears. Had the door moved? Yes. It had. Relief flooded her as, with an angry screech the door finally gave - swinging sluggishly outward on squeaking hinges.

Pepper’s heart leaped at the sight. Until the door behind them slammed into the heavy desk she and Tony had shifted to block it. Oh no no no! Cursing reached her ears; she saw a hand reach through the gap to push against the desk. The crazy dance of those fingers didn’t do anything, of course – with the angle there was no leverage there. But seeing that hand brought Pepper an opportunity as all of her fear and frustrated anger came rushing back – dark wretched rooms, being hurt and terrified by these vile men, and the pain of seeing and hearing Tony get hurt. Furiously, she ripped open the desk – her hands found something heavy….a stapler from one of the drawers and she slammed it down with all of her strength against those groping fingers. The owner of the hand broke off in the middle of a curse, screaming as he yanked his hand back through the gap. Pepper only had time to feel a flash of satisfaction before Tony had grabbed her wrist and was pulling her through the fumes, past the door with its still sizzling knob and into the area beyond.

Shaking his head and wanting to scream, Andy rolled his eyes at Max as he whimpered, cradling his now most-likely broken hand against his stomach. What kind of moron reached into a room blindly like that – with people who had everyone reason to want to kill you? The man had his eyes squeezed shut against the pain and had dropped the keys he’d retrieved from the office. Snatching the jangling chain up, Andy shoved them into his pocket. The captives were getting away. He could hear running footsteps. Fleetingly, he thought it might be better to let them go. But no, he still needed this payday. He was in too deep now. Putting his shoulder against the door, he shoved – it moved, but not enough. “Come on, Max!”

In short order the two kidnappers had pushed the desk back, the door was open and they burst into a room misted with sharp smelling smoke that immediately set them both coughing. Hacking to clear his lungs of the stuff, Andy had to push down an urge to give in to a babbling childish fear; after seeing that first explosive-shattered door when he knew Stark didn’t have no way to make some crazy bomb….now this. This what - some kinda secret agent acid smoke? How in the hell? The man was injured. And weaponless. Right? Right??

Looking back at Max, his useless boss – nursing that hand with fingers rapidly turning purplish, and tears leaking from now bloodshot, wild looking eyes - the reality of what was happening really struck Andy then, cold and low in his gut. This whole thing really was well and completely screwed. No way this was gonna have any kind of happy ending. For anyone.

Running forward, the two criminals burst into the outer room. Stark’s van was still there, along with the vehicle they’d used for the kidnapping. Stark and Ms. Potts were standing not too far off from the chair he and Sean used for their breaks. He frowned. He could see the couple’s profiles – they were looking towards the front of the van and had stopped their flight. Weird, but okay. Maybe there was hope - maybe this could still be salvaged. Quashing his earlier unease, he took a few running steps towards them, sensing Max at his elbow.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

A stone the size of Kansas dropped into the pit of Andy’s stomach. That voice just brought back and confirmed the ‘it’s all gone to hell’ sense of impending doom.

Sean.

“Oh no. Nononono.” Max was muttering, panic clear in his voice. Andy saw Stark glance their way, no more than the slice of an assessing gaze. Then that disturbing calculation was gone as those eyes returned to Sean. The former kidnapper stepped into the open from where he’d been hidden in the shadows beyond the van. He had a gun, and a cruel expression twisted his already ugly features. Andy knew this was spiraling out of control…and he felt helpless to stop it. He looked back at Max again. The red-haired man appeared to have checked out – his eyes were squeezed shut; he was panting, making tiny and irritating sounds of distress.

Great.

Andy looked at the two people in front of him, his victims. Seeing the past few days again and all the horrible things he’d been a part of and witness to. The moments he’d seen between the couple. The look on Ms. Potts face when he’d taken her away from Mr. Stark.

And now Sean. Standing in front of the two of them with a gun in his hand and murder in his eyes. Unbidden, Andy heaved a deep resigned sigh. “Oh damn it all.” Steeling himself he lifted a hand, stepping forward. “Sean. Dude. What’s going on?” He gave a half-smile and hoped it looked genuine. “Didn’t think you were coming back. Good timing, man.” The kidnapper’s eyes flickered again to the erstwhile captives; he could see Stark’s silent eyes moving over him and Sean, calculating, calculating. He wondered briefly if the former weapons manufacturer had something else in store. Something more than explosions and acid gas. Andy still had his gun, tucked into the back of his jeans, but no illusions there; there was no way he could do anything with it fast enough to save anyone - Sean had his gun out, leveled at Stark and his assistant.

Sean looked at him as he drew near, sneering. “Good timing? Yeah, right...” Suddenly sharper, he snapped, “stop right there.” Andy did, now nearly even with Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts as Sean continued mockingly, “No. I ain’t planning on including you or the boss in this little score.” The man’s voice was cold and unyielding, and under it all was a malicious satisfaction that told Andy that no matter what plan Stark may have, Sean had something in store for all of them.

“Sean…”

“Shut up. Move. Now. Company’s coming.” And the four of them turned and walked back towards the warehouse interior. They moved past the cars, past the chair, past the shattered green remains of the beer Sean had before he’d taken off the other day. Andy didn’t notice any of that. He saw Max standing where he’d frozen earlier, seeming to shrink in on himself as they drew closer. Andy frankly didn’t care if the man was more afraid of Sean or Stark. Andy already knew he was screwed and it felt good to see some of this come back to bite Max.

That satisfaction faded when he realized he could hear Ms. Pott’s quickened breathing and on some level he recognized how frightened she was. He glanced her way and regretted it immediately. She was watching her boss, her expression a riotous mix of worry, fear and anger. Andy felt guilt settle, sharp and uncomfortably harsh in the pit of his stomach.

Pulling his gaze away from the woman, he watched Stark from the corner of his eye, walking just a step back and to the side. His mouth was set in a grim line and those dark eyes were still taking everything in. Sean, oblivious to everything but his own evil delight in having the upper hand, called out to Max. “Come on, boss. You don’t want to miss this.” Andy glanced back at the murderer following him.

Nope. No way this was gonna have any kind of happy ending. For anyone.

The room was huge. As the four reached the center of it, having skirted the vehicles to head for the door they’d come through, Tony knew that it was now or never. If he and Pepper were taken back to one of those locked rooms the game was over. Back to square one and they would never escape. Tony ignored the cold flush that ran through him. Sean and Max had both said people would be crashing the party – any time now. He’d avoided really thinking about it until now, preferring to focus on escaping, but really there were only a few groups who’d have the guts to pull this off. Who had the resources to use the information Max had stolen. Those bad boys weren’t afraid of failure. They weren’t scared of the suit, his layers of security, or Rhodey with his military might. It was ironic or simply good timing that somehow none of that had even been a whisper of a threat to the kidnappers thus far. But maybe not. Maybe they’d known Rhodey was on a mission and out of the country…maybe they’d even orchestrated some of this mess and the rest was bad luck.

In the end it didn’t matter.

After what he’d seen as Ironman in Afghanistan and over the past several months, Tony could easily imagine what it would mean – if any of those groups got hold of his weapons. Or him. Provided they didn’t just kill him, of course. After ripping the generator from his chest to power the suit, they may decide to just shoot him and take what they could from the stolen data.

And Pepper. What about Pepper? God, no.

Max and his boys were schoolyard bullies by comparison. They had to get out. Now.

But he’d run it all through his head, too many times already. The net sum was still negative. Dread rose in him, threatening the calm cool calculation he desperately needed. Both Sean and Andy were at full strength, he couldn’t handle them both. Though it looked like Andy’s heart might not be in this anymore….but Tony couldn’t depend on that. He was out of options.

Max was cringing away from Sean as the little group reached him - his darting frantic glance skittering over the group. Tony didn’t have the time to relish Max’s reaction; he could only add it to the formula running in his head. So, that was confirmation that Sean and Andy were the only real threats. It was a good thing. He took a steadying breath. It didn’t help; the time to act was rushing forward too quickly and the terrible anticipation of what he was about to do tore at his thoughts.

The path through the vehicles had forced them to walk more closely together and gradually Tony edged his way to the center of the group. The door to the warehouse loomed.

Stomach churning, he felt his heart rabbit in his chest under the soft steady vibration of the generator. _I can’t…I can’t do this._ A sour taste suddenly at the back of his mouth, he swallowed to keep from getting sick. _You have to Tony._ Feeling his resolve fray, his mind screamed that the precautions he’d taken wouldn’t work…couldn’t work…all he had was a paperclip and a wad of spit and all the planning in the world couldn’t make one plus one equal three.

_Remember how it felt remember what happened before remember how it almost killed you._ He ached at the memories of that night, swarming up around him. He could hear Obadiah’s voice in his ears, mockingly cold and feel the icy rage at being completely powerless, trying but unable to move as the man he’d trusted virtually ripped his heart out…in more ways than one. He remembered the numb, impossible stumble down to the workshop, alone, desperate and knowing he was about to die. It won’t work. He struggled to control his breathing as an unbearably familiar cold knot of dread gripped him, but his steady footsteps were faltering and Andy had paused, looking at him strangely. _Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t._

Ignoring Andy and ignoring his fear, Tony took a deep breath - reaching out low with one hand and twining his fingers in Pepper’s. With his other he felt blindly along the tiny wires of the device in his pocket.

There. There it was. He ignored his pounding heart. He could see Pepper, Andy and all of them watching him and the realization of something was dawning in Andy’s eyes. They had all stopped walking and Sean’s face was contorted in anger - he was saying something. Absently, Tony noted it looked like the bastard was about to forget about handing him over to the ‘bad’ guys, that maybe he wanted to just shoot him and get it over with…but shockingly, Andy stepped between him and Sean, blocking that red-faced anger and the barrel from view. But not for long. Brutally pushing the smaller man aside, Sean stepped forward with murder in his eyes.

Tony smiled grimly. “You’re too late, you bastard.”

It may have felt like forever, but in reality it took only seconds before the edge of his thumbnail finally, finally caught at the jumper and pushed. Completed the circuit.

And his mind exploded with sound. Just like before.

*** * ***

Even knowing it would happen, Pepper watched in shock as the men around her collapsed. A sound, like the screech of electronics tuned to the wrong frequency pushed at the edge of her awareness. It hurt; her teeth ached - she couldn’t take a full breath. And Tony had let go of her hand. She turned, suddenly terrified, remembering what Rhodey had told her about that horrifying night all those months ago.

Her boss had dropped to one knee. His head was bowed and she couldn’t see his eyes, but the muscles all along his back were rigid against the hand she laid on him. “Tony! Tony, are you okay? We have to get out of here.” Wrapping one arm around his shoulders, she took his arm with her free hand and tugged. Frantically, she looked around at the criminals lying at their feet. They weren’t quite immobile – Tony had told her this wouldn’t be as effective as the prototype Obie had used on him. She could see Andy, who’d been closest, had been the worst affected. His eyes were open and he was lying awkwardly where’d he had fallen. His breath was rough and hitching in his chest - all she could see of his eyes were the pupils, fully dilated and staring. Even after all that man had done to her and Tony, he had been the least evil. She hated feeling the little wrenching pull in her stomach at seeing him struggling and helpless. She looked away.

Max was down too, making small jerking movements with eyes that were more aware than Andy’s. He was trying to move away. He and Sean had been the furthest….and Sean…

Sean had dropped as quickly as everyone else had, but he’d fallen backwards. He was scrabbling weakly at the ground. Though it was muffled through the makeshift earplugs Tony had made from her now mutilated tennis shoes, she could hear the ragged grunts of effort Sean made as he pushed himself away from the little group on his elbows. And as he did it, Pepper could see the effect of the device fade. She could see his movements strengthen with purpose as his face twisted with rage. Something ugly and dark crawled in his eyes and it didn’t take long to recognize it was fear. Her stomach lurched…he still had the gun. Letting go of Tony, she lunged towards the kidnapper but he saw her. Almost growling, his hand tightened on the weapon as he raised it. She was too close to get out of the way. Faced with wrong end of that cold steel, knowing she wouldn’t be able to dodge it, all that crossed her mind was a single accepting thought. _That’s it, then._  
  
But almost as if the thought had brought him, Tony was there, stopping Sean from pulling the trigger. An almost comical look of surprise crossed his scarred and snarling face when a shadow fell over him and Tony ripped the weapon from the kidnapper’s hand. Tony was breathing hard as he stepped back, turning the weapon on Sean. It didn’t take any effort for Pepper to see the device was influencing Tony too – maybe not as strongly as the others, but she could easily see the strain in his already pained movements. She remembered what he’d told her just a short time ago. “It won’t last long, Pepper. It just doesn’t have enough power…” he’d paused then, some shadowy emotion hinting at the edges of those dark eyes. Tony had never told her what it was like to be on the receiving end of this particular Stark invention. Sighing, he’d continued, obviously torn as to how much to tell her and almost forcing the words from his throat. “I’m not sure how much it will affect me.” At her look of unease, he’d tried to cover up the fear she’d glimpsed by saying, “I’ll use it only if things really get desperate.” She wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her, or himself.

Now things were desperate and she could see how much it was touching him, holding him back. Somehow she knew he was only moving from sheer force of will. He turned the gun on the kidnapper, his eyes hard and cold. Voice rough, he snapped, “Pepper. Check Max and Andy…one of them must have the keys.” It was only because she knew him so well that she could tell he was struggling to speak, but regardless, there was no uncertainty in his voice. The sound of the keys they’d heard in the locked door earlier came back to her. She nodded, already moving over to the prone kidnappers.

It occurred to her that she wasn’t having any trouble at all, beyond the annoying noise of the device. Why was it affecting Tony so much? Her fingers went to one ear, brushing against one of the silicon and rubber earplugs he’d fashioned for her. _Because he sacrificed his own safety to make sure you would be okay._  
  
Max’s pockets were empty. Andy was next; his brown staring eyes unnerving. Hands shaking, she searched quickly and was about to check his jacket when she glanced up and froze. That empty gaze was quickly fading…his eyes were focusing on her. And.

The incessant irritating hum was dwindling down to nothing.

Her head whipped around in time to see Sean, further away and no longer hampered at all, surge up from his prone position - grappling with Tony for control of the weapon. Heart in her throat, she stumbled forward, not noticing when Andy levered himself up behind her and looked indecisively from the two struggling men, to her and then Max. She caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye right before Andy rushed by her - seemingly intent on interfering with the deadly struggle. Suddenly he yelled, “Stark! Watch it!” But it was a second too late. Sean wrenched hard, overpowering the injured man. Tony’s head tilted back and she could see his throat…with the barrel of the gun pressed hard into the side of his neck. The crazed killer laughed cruelly, the sound as sharp as shattered glass. Then he stopped and just smiled.

Andy broke into a run, but like Pepper, he must have known he wouldn’t reach them in time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chaos, Kisses and Oh, Sweet Irony**

The feeling of a gun barrel pressed against his pulse wasn’t something Tony had ever expected to know. Dodging bullets, bombs and curses sure, from a distance and behind a suit of armor. This….this was intimate and horrible, and when his heartbeat doubled with the feel of that cold metal on his skin, he knew how quickly his life could end.

The grating laughter of the man holding the weapon clamored in his ears, barely muffled by the earplugs he still wore. But it was when Sean stopped laughing and his eyes glittered with a sick delighted anticipation that everything kicked into high gear. There was no way this lunatic was going to kill him. Not after all this. Not before he got Pepper out of here.

Between that thought and his next breath, Tony reached up with one hand, yanking his head away from the gun, ignoring the shriek of pain from his shoulder and side. He snatched the hand holding that gun and twisted. The gun went off, but the shot was wild, hitting the wall somewhere behind him. Months of mind-numbingly rigorous martial arts paid off – the wristlock was perfect. Thankfully the move was all about leverage, but even with that he didn’t hold back; Tony could feel the creaking pressure he put on the man’s forearm and elbow. And then with a sickening lurch, he felt the man’s wrist break; the gun clattered to the floor as he screamed.

Jaw tight with nausea at what he’d just done, Tony snatched up the gun and backed up a few steps. At least for the moment, Sean wasn’t a threat. He was watching him with rage and pain-filled eyes, cradling his broken wrist and panting. Tony’s gaze raked around the room, taking in the stunned silence from the others and shooting a glare of warning at Max. His former employee had made it to shaky feet, eyes wild and as if he might bolt at any moment. With Tony’s glare pinning him, though, Max stayed put. Moving forward, Tony wasted no time putting himself between Pepper and the rest of them.

Warily, he looked at Andy. The man had stepped between him and Sean. He’d tried to warn him. But none of that changed everything that had happened before. Andy must have known some of his thoughts because his mouth twisted ruefully and he nodded shortly, almost bitterly. But he didn’t move - no warning look required. Maybe it was the gun Tony was holding, maybe not. “Pepper,” Tony said on a frustrated sigh, “See if Andy has any more of those cable ties.”

“What the hell, Andy, are you guys buddies now? You’re supposed to be working for me,” Max protested, his voice frantic and frayed at the edges.

“Shut up, Max,” Tony snapped, suddenly vicious. Pepper threw him a worried look as she moved over to Andy. She knew he was angry, but the look in his eyes. They were cold, with a terrible rage swirling in them. She didn’t know how much of everything they’d suffered at hands of these men would color his actions. But remembering what Sean had done to him, remembering her bruised wrists and bandaging Tony’s bullet wound, she realized that yeah, Tony wasn’t the only one really angry.

She only hoped he wouldn’t let it control him. They still had to get out of here and they needed to call the cops. She couldn’t help remembering that Tony was different now. He was willing to kill. Had killed. After everything they’d been through, she didn’t know if it would matter that this wasn’t life or death anymore. That morally….legally they had to call the police. To be honest, she was angry enough herself that she was almost willing to help him steady the gun before he pulled the trigger. Almost.

_Trust him, Pepper._

So, tamping down her worry, she quickly searched Andy’s pockets. Yay. Cable ties. She could acknowledge the little bit of vindictive glee that sparked when she found them, thinking about giving these men a taste of their own medicine. But she didn’t take the time to relish it; it was short work to truss up Sean. She avoided the evil look he gave her as she did it, and ignored the way he laughed under his breath. She tightened the plastic cord as much as she could and at Tony’s instruction threaded one thick tie through a nearby railing post. There was no way Sean would get free and no way he could move more than a few inches…even if he were inclined to try anything with a broken wrist. Still, it was no small relief for Pepper once she was done.

Keeping his eyes on the three of them and the gun trained on the two as-yet-untied kidnappers, Tony addressed Andy. “Is this all of you?” Pepper thought she knew the answer; they’d only ever seen the three of them, but there could be more. Mouth turned down, Andy gave a short nod. Around the surprise she felt, a great wave of relief went through her. Maybe this would be okay. Tony searched the man’s face, looking for a lie, before he sighed heavily and muttered, “All right then.” He paused, considering, and Pepper could almost hear the gears turning - see the calculations running in his head. Finally, his mouth a thin line of displeasure, he spit out, “Shit, Andy. I don’t know if I should shoot you or buy you a drink.”

Pepper knew her boss was talking about the warning Andy had given him earlier. With that memory, other moments came back to her; moments where the kidnapper had tried to relieve some of the pain they’d been suffering. Her stomach roiled with anxiety. How were they going to deal with this guy? Sounding like it tasted bad, Tony answered her unvoiced question.

“Him too, Potts, but just his arms.” He paused, his eyes moving from Andy to Max and back again. “We’re not going to leave these two here.”

Okay.

When she’d finished, both Andy and Max had taken a familiar pose. Arms tightly bound behind them guaranteed they were no longer a threat to her or Tony … and Pepper felt the wretched fear she’d been victim to for the past days start to fade. She watched as the former weapons manufacturer stepped up to his former employee. He turned out the man’s pockets and swore when he came up empty. Sean and Andy’s pockets only resulted in a set of keys that Pepper recognized. Tony huffed a frustrated breath and turned to face the door leading back into the main warehouse. “Alright boys, up and at ‘em.” He meant to go back there, it was obvious. Pepper bit back a protest. They may have the three tied up, but hadn’t Sean said someone else was coming? She and Tony needed to leave now. She found her gaze moving anxiously around the warehouse. The van was right there. Why weren’t they leaving? They could find a phone and call the cops after. Sensing her growing unease, Tony’s gaze sought hers. She knew it was to reassure her, but they had keys now. One of them must fit the cars here. She barely heard him say, “I just need to tie up a loose end.”

Giving one final check to Sean’s ties, her infuriatingly calm-seeming boss gestured with the weapon to the two other men. There must a reason. He must have a good reason. But as the two former captives, Max and Andy walked back into the warehouse, Pepper still had to hold back the urge to scream.

Tony had to grit his teeth as they walked down the endless hallway. He could see the dark opening of what appeared to be an office coming up. Based on the slight course correction Max made, it was where they were headed. Thank God. The adrenaline from their earlier effort was wearing off; every single ache and pain was coming back into sharp focus. Tony could feel the bleed of energy that came from fighting it, and ignored the horrible knowledge that he didn’t have much more in him. He needed to rest.

Almost done. They were almost done.

The office was small. But this was it. A desk. A laptop. Small screens showed the remains of the cells they’d been held in and one showed what seemed to be the front of the warehouse and part of the street. Tony couldn’t help the curve of a smile when he looked at his old cell and saw the shattered ruins of the door he’d blasted open. Handing the gun to Pepper, he smiled as he saw her take it and hold it on the two men. If he were them, he wouldn’t chance the look in his assistant’s eyes at the moment. Knowing she had it under control, he started rifling through the drawers. He knew part of the mutinous look in her eyes was for him. She didn’t understand why they didn’t just go. Leave these two here and get out. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

He turned up a cell phone. Papers, clips, pens. Crap. Where is it? He only hoped the man hadn’t already…..and then he found it, tucked into a tiny pocket in the laptop case stuffed into the back of a large file drawer. A flash drive. He heard Pepper’s sharp breath of recognition and Max’s sound of protest. He hadn’t been sure until then. He smiled; that was all he needed to know. To be sure though, he went through the rest of the room. It came up clean. The look of defeat and growing desperation on Max’s face was enough to tell him the idiot hadn’t made a copy.

Picking up the cellphone, he dialed 911. The person who answered the phone was gratifyingly responsive, and wanted to keep the line open until they arrived. He passed the phone to Pepper, taking the gun back. He wanted to get back to Sean and the vehicles and a room that didn’t feel like it was closing in on them. Besides, Sean may have been thoroughly tied up, but definitely not a good idea to leave someone like that unattended. And then there was the matter of the ‘company’. Tony had no idea when they were supposed to show up, who they were….or how far away the cops were.

He hated that the Ironman suit was just so much scrap metal at the moment.

Ignoring the creeping fuzziness at the edges of his vision, he motioned for everyone to start moving, and headed back to the ‘garage’. As the four left the room, none of them saw the grey sedan move across the monitor reflecting the front of the warehouse; the car’s occupants in shades and dark suits.

They were almost back to the cars when Tony realized Max was talking to himself, barely audible, shaking his head - nervous eyes on the floor. Exchanging glances with Andy, Tony couldn’t help noticing the other man step between Max and Pepper. Grateful for Andy’s assistance and pissed that Max was choosing right now to act up, Tony kept a closer eye on him; he had the distinct impression the man was unraveling right there in front of them.

They were nearly to the door to the outer room when the warble of the first police siren came through. Max froze; Andy nearly walked into him. Tony opened his mouth to prod the man when suddenly the guy turned, his eyes terrified and unfocused. He shouldered Andy to one side. For one scary moment Tony thought Max was going to attack Pepper. But he veered around her, bowling straight into Tony’s injured shoulder. Taking a breath that felt like fire, Tony bit back a scream as the world went white.

Max frantically scrambled for the gun in his hand, awkward and hampered by the ties on his wrists. It didn’t take much for Tony to fend him off; silently thanking Pepper for her accuracy with that stapler, Tony struck at the purple-bruised fingers of Max’s hand – the man let out a screech and let go. For retribution or desperation Tony didn’t know, but the bastard drove a knee up into his stomach as he barreled by. Or tried to. Tony blocked the blow but the momentum threw him off balance and by the time he looked up, all Tony saw was a heel rounding the corner at the far end of the hall.

Cursing at the empty hallway, Tony threw a look at Andy and then Pepper. No. He was done with this; he was in no condition to take off after Max. He could hear the squeak of the alarmed 911 operator faintly from the open cellphone; Pepper exchanged a glance with him and as always, seemed to follow his train of thought. She lifted the cellphone and spoke in quiet tones, updating the operator on what had happened.

He took a deep breath. They had the data files. He knew he would find Max; once they were free, once he had access to Jarvis again, there’d be literally nowhere the man could hide. End of story.

Gathering up his assistant and his former kidnapper with a shake of his head and a gesture, they headed back to where they’d left Sean. The sirens were growing louder. It was time to go home.

*** * ***

It was all over the news.

“Billionaire Industrialist Tony Stark and his assistant turned up this evening by contacting police, after having been missing for nearly five days. The former weapons manufacturer and his long-time employee Pepper Potts had apparently been kidnapped; police had been stymied in their search for them, due to a lack of leads.

Details on this breaking story are scant, but it appears that the two captives somehow managed to turn on their kidnappers and free themselves. Minor injuries were treated at the Anaheim Memorial Medical Center and they were released after a few hours.

Two of the kidnappers have been taken into custody, while a Mr. Max Spillman, former employee of Stark Industries remains at large. This photo from his employee file was taken two years ago, and is close to the current description given to police by Mr. Stark. If anyone has any information regarding his whereabouts or sees him, call 911. Do not approach him. He is considered armed and dangerous.”

Angrily, Max snapped off the T.V. He continued tossing clothes, papers and whatever else he thought he might need into the large duffel. Opening the panel in the bottom of his dresser drawer, he pulled out the money he had left from the people who’d hired him to take Stark. He had to leave. He had to leave now. Get a fresh start. Somehow. He didn’t have Stark’s files anymore, but he had enough knowledge from his work at Stark Industries to be of some use. Maybe he could find a buyer for that.

The car was idling in the garage. He was in and out of his apartment in less than five minutes. When the group of police cars passed him heading toward his apartment, he couldn’t help smiling.

Made it.

Still smiling, he didn’t notice the grey sedan that pulled in behind his car as he merged on to the expressway.

*** * ***

She found him standing by the window, looking out at the night sky.

Three days had passed since they’d returned, and although Tony had tried to convince her to take more time off, she had insisted on coming back to work today - anxious to move on with her life, anxious to prove that she could.

A tiny part of her regretted that now.

It had been a long day; trying to catch up with business that had been missed, now new and improved with the added bonus of a firestorm of press. As always, the media was aggressive, intrusive and their questions came with a sense of entitlement to private information that was frankly none of their damn business. But the most challenging part was that Pepper was right in the middle of it, along with Tony. She found she didn’t like it, and she didn’t know how he had handled it all these years.

The lights in the living room were dimmed; enough to see by but not enough to drown out the city lights beyond the wall of glass in front of her. Surprised at how dark it had gotten, she made a mental note to ask Jarvis to remind her in the future when it was quitting time.

Even though the room was dark and she was walking over carpet, Pepper knew he was aware of her. Unless he was down in the workshop, thoroughly absorbed in his most recent project, it was rare that she could sneak up on him. Sometimes she thought he had a direct line into Jarvis and all of his sensors. But he didn’t say anything so she took his silence as an invitation.

Stepping up beside him, she was a bit surprised when he didn’t look at her. “Tony?” He did turn then, wincing a bit. She could see the slight bulk of the bandage beneath his shirt and guessed he’d pulled at the injury. Or maybe it was the other hurt – it turned out to be a bone-deep bruise on his hip, nothing that wouldn’t heal with some TLC and physical therapy. It was a good thing; she thought overall they’d made it out better than anyone could have hoped. Now if she could stop from thinking about it every time she stopped moving, thinking, or talking. If she could stop having nightmares about it, too, well. That would be peachy.

He smiled. “Hey, Potts.” His gaze returned to the window and the darkened horizon, filled with lights; the flickering, tinted nightlife of California. “Had enough already?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you might field some of the calls.”

He snorted. “Do you really want me talking to the press?”

Nightmarish visions of the damage control she’d need to do flashed alarmingly…so vividly she almost heard a nasally robotic voice accompanying them: Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

“On second thought, never mind.”

He nodded, glancing over at her with eyes full of mischief and maybe a little relief. “Gotcha,” he winked. “Okay, boss.”

Sighing, she let it go. “After the day I’ve had, you’re buying dinner.” Looking down, she checked the pockets of her jacket. Where did I put those keys?

“What are you hungry for?” His voice was suddenly a lot closer, and the gentle mockery had softened to something that shivered up her spine. Startled, she looked up and found he was near enough to feel his breath ghost against her cheek. And he was looking at her with dark, dark eyes that made her knees feel shaky and made her breath hitch.

“Tony, what…” He shifted forward into her space, the warmth of his body very close and very real, and Pepper couldn’t help her indrawn breath when one hand came to rest on her hip - while the other reached up to tangle in the hair she’d let down at the end of the day. And then his mouth was covering hers and she forgot completely how starved she’d been just a moment ago.

She hadn’t known if the fleeting kisses they’d shared in that warehouse were real or a symptom of the tension laden situation. In the bright cold light of freedom, she’d explained them away…ignoring the tight feeling in her chest at the thought that a kiss likely didn’t carry the same weight for her admittedly promiscuous boss as it did for her.

That maybe, just maybe, in the big picture they meant nothing to him - and for the sake of their working relationship she should just forget it had happened.

But this. This she couldn’t explain away. His mouth on hers was gentle and questioning, almost as if he were worried how she’d react. Her heart was pounding and she could smell his cologne, familiar and wonderful. When she tilted her head to deepen the contact, he made a sound - something like a moan and his fingers tightened in the cloth at her hip. He pulled her closer, close enough for her to brush up against him. It drew a soft sound from her lips that turned into a gasp when his mouth and tongue moved down to her jaw and lower, tasting the mad beat of her pulse before his lips moved to cover hers again. Something dark and delicious was coiling low in her stomach and Pepper didn’t want it to stop.

This wasn’t something shallow or the situation. This was years of caring, soft looks and passing touches. Years of flirting and playing at the edge of something more. This….this felt real and perfect and right. And when he finally pulled away his eyes were hooded, his breathing had quickened and amazingly, he looked as completely and utterly undone by this as Pepper felt.

He closed his eyes then, taking a deep breath. Pepper couldn’t help the tiny stab of fear that he was about to pull away from her, about to sweep this moment under the rug – as they had done for so many moments. But his arms wrapped around her, pulling her head in close. She felt him inhale, his face buried in her hair - and her head was against his chest, feeling the heat of him and breathing in his scent. She listened to the soft hum of the arc generator and beneath it, the pounding of his heart. When his lips brushed the soft shell of her ear…making her shiver, she glanced up and he murmured, “so…how about we have dinner delivered?”

Her smile was answer enough.

 

 

**Epilogue**

They found Spillman’s car abandoned, on the side of the freeway. Barely disturbed and with the driver’s door open… the key was in the ignition. What looked like a single bullet hole punctured the leather of the front seat. No blood or obvious signs of a struggle. Tony knew the look on Pepper’s face after she’d gotten the news - she didn’t want to relay the information. She knew what it meant. But then she didn’t have to. Jarvis had already told him.

In addition to healing up, handling necessary business for Stark Industries and (of course) security upgrades, it took Tony a month and a half to find out where they’d taken his former employee. It was pretty ironic really – Ironman was saving Max from the very fate he’d intended for Tony.

Once he’d found the bad guys, it didn’t take long to fly out and destroy the illegal research facility and take Max into custody. He found his erstwhile kidnapper in the dirty lab, exhausted, unwashed and mentally unhinged. Yeah. Definitely unhinged. Disconcertingly, after he’d blasted through the door….after the dust settled and Ironman had a grip around Max’s arm pulling him to safety – the disheveled redhead started laughing. It was quiet and desperate and Tony could feel bitter disgust rise at the sound. He briefly considered dropping the man in the ocean as he flew by…things would be so much simpler that way. But in the end he decided it would be more gratifying to see the man rot in jail. For a long, long, time. Unlike Andy, Max wouldn’t have the benefit of Stark Industries’ legal team representing him. In fact, Max and his public attorney would be facing said legal team.

So, resisting the urge to simply crush the life out of the man in an iron gauntleted grip, he handed Max over to authorities. But the manic chuckling and crazed expression told him that Max hadn’t held up well as a captive. Though Max had obviously had some short-circuiting going on before he’d been taken, in the end it seemed Ironman showing up to rescue him only helped complete the guy’s spiral into madness.

Yeah. Tony wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But at least Max wasn’t out somewhere plotting a sinister revenge or worse, sharing secrets that weren’t his with even scarier bad guys.

When Tony got back to the mansion, Pepper was waiting. It surprised him a little, because before all this she’d always been suspiciously absent until he’d changed and cleaned up (and depending on how rough the mission had been, it sometimes took a good while after that). But things were different now between them … and this had been his first trip out in the suit since that fateful fall-from-the-sky-without-power almost two months ago.

Hm. Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise that she’d be there to greet him.

She was wearing a deceptively modest outfit that highlighted her curves in all the right places, and as the HUD gave way to an unfettered view of her Tony couldn’t help his smile. He caught the pinch of concern at the corners of her eyes, but saw it quickly fade behind a sweet smile as she stepped up to him. “So…success?”

“Yep. Villian apprehended, crisis officially averted.”

“Mmm. That’s good.” She stepped into his space, running her hands down his arms, still avoiding the mostly healed shoulder. He knew her hands on him was another way she could be sure he was okay. He couldn’t find it in himself to be insulted by it, distracted as he was by the soft caress of her breath against his neck. He could smell the light scent of the perfume he’d given her and decided that she was still too far away. Putting his hands on her hips, he slipped them around to the small of her back. She smiled as he tugged her in close.

It was pretty obvious by now that his life would never be simple.

And being with him would put Pepper in danger. But he’d be damned if he let anyone hurt her, and Pepper knew the risks better than anyone. If Pepper – brilliant, logical, beautiful Pepper chose to be with him - after all they’d been through and all he’d asked her to do, well, Tony didn’t have the right to tell her she couldn’t be (even if he wanted to).

Thinking back on the past two months, it occurred to him that if it hadn’t been for Max and his plans, he and Pepper might have never been. But then, thinking back on all of the time he’d known her…no. Max had nothing to do with this.

As he leaned down to kiss her, Tony pushed those thoughts away. What mattered now was that they were together…and what mattered right now was the feeling of her lips on his.

But there was something else he needed to ask of her. He pulled away, breath a bit unsteady.

“Ms. Potts.”

“Yes?”

“Reschedule my afternoon appointments, would you? I have some …. pressing matters to attend to.”

She smiled, slow and sexy, and he felt his heart-rate double.

“Certainly, Mr. Stark.”


End file.
